GOLD IN THE SKY

 By ALAN E. NOURSE

 ILLUSTRATOR LLEWELLYN

 BOOK-LENGTH NOVEL COMPLETE IN THIS ISSUE

[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Amazing ScienceFiction Stories September 1958. Extensive research did not uncover anyevidence that the U. S. Copyright on this publication was renewed. ]

CONTENTS

 1. TROUBLE TIMES TWO

 2. JUPITER EQUILATERAL

 3. TOO MANY WARNINGS

 4. "BETWEEN MARS AND JUPITER. .. "

 5. THE BLACK RAIDER

 6. THE LAST RUN OF THE SCAVENGER

 7. PRISONERS

 8. THE SCAVENGERS OF SPACE

 9. THE INVISIBLE MAN

 10. THE TRIGGER

 11. THE HAUNTED SHIP

 12. THE SINISTER BONANZA

 13. PINPOINT IN SPACE

 14. THE MISSING ASTEROID

 15. THE FINAL MOVE

YOU WILL MEET--

Greg Hunter. Test pilot--happy only when his life hung in the balance. 

Tom Hunter. A pioneer--his frontier was hidden in test tubes. 

Johnny Coombs. A prospector--he returned from the asteroids too soon. 

Merrill Tawney. An industrialist--he sought plunder even beyond thestars. 

Major Briarton. A government man--his creed was law and order. 

[Illustration: They fought with whatever was handy, not bothering tofigure the odds. ]

1. Trouble Times Two

The sun was glowing dull red as it slipped down behind the curvinghorizon of Mars, but Gregory Hunter was not able to see it. 

There was no viewscreen in the ship's cabin; it was too tiny for that. Greg twisted around in the cockpit that had been built just big enoughto hold him, and shifted his long legs against the brace-webbing, tryingto get them comfortable. 

He knew he was afraid . .. But nobody else knew that, not even thecaptain waiting at the control board on the satellite, and in spite ofthe fear Greg Hunter would not have traded places at this moment withanyone else in the universe. 

He had worked too hard and waited too long for this moment. 

He heard the count-down monitor clicking in his ears, and his handsclenched into fists. How far from Mars would he be ten minutes from now?He didn't know. Farther than any man had ever traveled before in thespace of ten minutes, he knew, and faster. How far and how fast woulddepend on him alone. 

"All set, Greg?" It was the captain's voice in the earphones. 

"All set, Captain. "

"You understand the program?"

Greg nodded. "Twenty-four hours out, twenty-four hours back, ninetydegrees to the ecliptic, and all the accelleration I can stand bothways. "

Greg grinned to himself. He thought of the months of conditioning he hadgone through to prepare for this run . .. The hours in the centrifuge tobuild up his tolerance to accelleration, the careful diet, the rigoroushours of physical conditioning. It was only one experiment, one tinystep in the work that could someday give men the stars, but to GregoryHunter at this moment it was everything. 

"Good luck, then. " The captain cut off, and the blastoff buzzer sounded. 

He was off. His heart hammered in his throat, and his eyes achedfiercely, but he paid no attention. His finger crept to the air-speedindicator, then to the cut-off switch. When the pressure became toogreat, when he began to black out, he would press it. 

But not yet. It was speed they wanted; they had to know how muchaccelleration a man could take for how long and still survive, and nowit was up to him to show them. 

Fleetingly, he thought of Tom . .. Poor old stick-in-the-mud Tom, workingaway in his grubby little Mars-bound laboratory, watching bacteria grow. Tom could never have qualified for a job like this. Tom couldn't even gointo free-fall for ten minutes without getting sick all over the place. Greg felt a surge of pity for his brother, and then a twinge ofmalicious anticipation. Wait until Tom heard the reports on _this_ run!It was all right to spend your time poking around with bottles and testtubes if you couldn't do anything else, but it took something special topilot an XP ship for Project Star-Jump. And after this run was over, even Tom would have to admit it. .. . 

There was a lurch, and quite suddenly the enormous pressure was gone. 

Something was wrong. He hadn't pushed the cut-off button, yet the ship'sengines were suddenly silent. He jabbed at the power switch. Nothinghappened. Then the side-jets sputted, and he was slammed sideways intothe cot. 

He snapped on the radio speaker. "Control . .. Can you hear me?Something's gone wrong out here. .. . "

"Nothing's wrong, " the captain's voice said in his earphones. "Just sittight. I'm bringing you back in. There's a call here from Sun Lake City. They want you down there in a hurry. We'll have to scratch you on thisrun. "

"_Who_ wants me down there?"

"The U. N. Council office. Signed by Major Briarton himself and I can'targue with the Major. We're bringing you in. "

Greg Hunter sank back, disappointment so thick he could taste it in hismouth. Sun Lake City! That meant two days at least, one down, one back, maybe more if connections weren't right. It meant that the captain wouldsend Morton or one of the others out in his place. It meant. .. . 

Suddenly he thought of what else it meant, and a chill ran up his back. 

There was only one reason Major Briarton would call him in like this. Something had happened to Dad. 

Greg leaned back in the cot, suddenly tense, as a thousand frightfulpossibilities flooded his mind. It could only mean that Dad was in somekind of trouble. 

And if anything had happened to Dad. .. . 

 * * * * *

The sun was sinking rapidly toward the horizon when the city finallycame into sight in the distance, but try as he would, Tom Hunter couldnot urge more than thirty-five miles an hour from the huge lurchingvehicle he was driving. 

On an open paved highway the big pillow-wheeled Sloppy Joe would dosixty in a breeze, but this desert route was far from a paved road. Inside the pressurized passenger cab, Tom gripped the shock-bars withone arm and the other leg, and jammed the accelerator to the floor. Theengine coughed, but thirty-five was all it would do. 

Through the windshield Tom could see the endless rolling dunes of theMartian desert stretching to the horizon on every side. They called Marsthe Red Planet, but it was not red when you were close to it. There weremultitudes of colors here . .. Yellow, orange, brown, gray, occasionalpatches of gray-green . .. All shifting and changing in the fadingsunlight. Off to the right were the worn-down peaks of the Mesabi II, one of the long, low mountain ranges of almost pure iron ore that helpedgive the planet its dull red appearance from outer space. And behindhim, near the horizon, the tiny sun glowed orange out of a blue-blacksky. 

Tom fought the wheel as the Sloppy Joe jounced across a dry creek bed, and swore softly to himself. Why hadn't he kept his head and waited forthe mail ship that had been due at the Lab to give him a lift back? He'dhave been in Sun Lake City an hour ago . .. But the urgency of themessage had driven caution from his mind. 

A summons from the Mars Coordinator of the U. N. Interplanetary Councilwas the same as an order . .. But there was more to Tom's haste thanthat. There was only one reason that Major Briarton would be calling himin to Sun Lake City, and that reason meant trouble. 

Something was wrong. Something had happened to Dad. 

Now Tom peered up at the dark sky, squinting into the sun. Somewhere outthere between Mars and Jupiter was a no-man's-land of danger, a greatcircling ring of space dirt and debris, the Asteroid belt. And somewhereout there, Dad was working. 

Tom thought for a moment of the pitiful little mining rig that RogerHunter had taken out to the Belt . .. The tiny orbit-ship to be used forheadquarters and storage of the ore; the even tinier scout ship, PeteRacely's old _Scavenger_ that he had sold to Roger Hunter for back taxesand repairs when he went broke in the Belt looking for his Big Strike. It wasn't much of a mining rig for anybody to use, and the dangers of asmall mining operation in the Asteroid Belt were frightening. It tookskill to bring a little scout-ship in for a landing on an asteroid rockhardly bigger than the ship itself; it took even more skill to rig thecontrolled-Murexide charges to blast the rock into tiny fragments, andthen run out the shiny magnetic net to catch the explosion debris andbring it in to the hold of the orbit-ship. .. . 

Tom Hunter scowled, trying to shake off the feeling of uneasiness thatwas nibbling at his mind. Asteroid mining was dangerous . .. But Dad wasno novice. Nobody on Mars knew how to handle a mining rig better thanRoger Hunter did. He knew what he was doing out there, there was no realdanger for him or was there. .. . 

Roger Hunter, a good man, a gentle and peaceful man, had finally seenall he could stomach of Jupiter Equilateral and its company miningpolicies six months before. He had told them so in plain, simplelanguage when he turned in his resignation. They didn't try to stophim . .. A man was still free to quit a job on Mars if he wanted to, evena job with Jupiter Equilateral. But it was an open secret that the bigmining outfit had not liked Roger Hunter's way of resigning, taking halfa dozen of their first-rate mining engineers with him. There had beenveiled threats, rumors of attempts to close the markets to RogerHunter's ore, in open violation of U. N. Council policies on Mars. .. . 

Tom fought the wheel as the big tractor lumbered up another rise, andthe huge plastic bubble of Sun Lake City came into view far down thevalley below. 

He thought of Greg. Had Greg been summoned too? He closed his lipstightly as a wave of anger passed through his mind. If anything hadhappened, no matter what, he thought, Greg would be there. Taking overand running things, as usual. He thought of the last time he had seenhis brother, and then deliberately blocked out the engulfing bitterness. 

That had been more than a year ago. Maybe Greg had changed since then. 

But somehow, Tom didn't think so. 

The Sloppy Joe was on the valley floor now, and ahead the bubblecovering the city was drawing closer. The sun was almost gone; lightswere appearing inside the plastic shielding. Born and raised on Mars, Tom had seen the teeming cities of Earth only once in his life . .. Butto him none of the splendors of the Earth cities could match the simple, quiet beauty of this Martian outpost settlement. There had been a timewhen people had said that Sun Lake City could never be built, that itcould never survive if it were, but with each successive year it grewlarger and stronger, the headquarters city for the planet that hadbecome the new frontier of Earth. 

The radiophone buzzed, and the airlock guard hailed him when he returnedthe signal. Tom gave his routine ID. He guided the tractor into thelock, waited until pressure and atmosphere rose to normal, and thenleaped out of the cab. 

Five minutes later he was walking across the lobby of the InterplanetaryCouncil building, stepping into the down elevator. Three flights belowhe stepped out into the office corridor of the U. N. InterplanetaryCouncil on Mars. 

If there was trouble, this was where he would find it. 

He paused for a minute before the gray plastic door marked MAJOR FRANKBRIARTON in raised stainless steel letters. Then he pushed open the doorand walked into the ante-room. 

It was empty. Suddenly he felt a touch on his shoulder. Behind him, afamiliar voice said, "Hello, Twin. "

 * * * * *

At first glance they looked like carbon copies of each other, althoughthey were no more identical than identical twins ever are. Greg stood agood two inches taller than Tom. His shoulders were broad, and there wasa small gray scar over one eye that stood out in contrast to the healthytanned color of his face. Tom was of slighter build, and wirier, hisskin much more pale. 

But they had the same dark hair, the same gray eyes, the same square, stubborn line to the jaw. They looked at each other for a moment withoutspeaking. Then Greg grinned and clapped his brother on the shoulder. 

"So you got here, finally, " he said. "I was beginning to think I'd haveto go out on the desert and find you. "

"Oh, I got here, all right, " Tom said. "I see you did too. "

"Yes, " Greg said heavily. "Can't argue with the major, you know. "

"But what does he want?"

"How should I know? All he said was to get down here fast. And now heisn't even here himself. "

"Is Dad on Mars?" Tom asked. 

Greg looked at him. "I don't know. "

"We could check the register. "

"I already checked it. He has not logged in, but that doesn't meananything. "

"I suppose not, " Tom said glumly. 

They were silent for a moment. Then Greg said, "Look, what are youworried about? Nothing could have happened to Dad. He's been mining theBelt for years. "

"I know. I just wish he were here, that's all. If he's in some kind oftrouble. .. . "

"What kind of trouble? You're looking for spooks. "

"Spooks like Jupiter Equilateral, maybe, " Tom said. "They could makeplenty of trouble for Dad. "

"With the U. N. In the driver's seat here? They wouldn't dare. Why do youthink the major rides them so hard with all the claim-filingregulations? He'd give his right arm for a chance to break that outfitinto pieces. "

"I still wish somebody had gone out to the Belt with Dad, " Tom said. 

Just then the door opened. The newcomer was a tall, gray-haired man withU. N. Council stripes on his lapel, and major's rockets on his shoulders. "Sorry I'm late, boys, " Major Briarton said. "I'd hoped to be here whenyou arrived. I'm sorry to pull you in here like this, but I'm afraid Ihad no choice. When did you boys hear from your father last?"

They looked at each other. "I saw him six weeks ago, " Tom said. "Justbefore he left to go out to the Belt again. "

"Nothing since then?"

"Not a word. "

The major chewed his lip. "Greg?"

"I had a note at Christmas, I think. But what. .. . "

"What did he say in the note?"

"He said Merry Christmas and Happy New Year. Dad isn't much of a letterwriter. "

"Nothing at all about what he was doing?"

Greg shook his head. "Look, Major, if there's some sort of trouble. .. . "

"Yes, I'm afraid there's trouble, " the major said. He looked up at them, and spread his hands helplessly. "There isn't any easy way to tell you, but you've got to know. There's been an accident, out in the Belt. "

"Accident?" Greg said. 

"A very serious accident. A fuel tank exploded in the scooter yourfather was riding back to the _Scavenger_. It must have been verysudden, and by the time help arrived. .. . " The major broke off, unable tofind words. 

For a long moment there was utter silence in the room. Outside, anelevator was buzzing, and a typewriter clicked monotonously somewhere inthe building. 

Then Tom Hunter broke the silence. "Who was it, Major?" he said. "Whokilled Dad? Tell us, or we'll find out!"

2. Jupiter Equilateral

For a moment, Major Briarton just stared at him. Then he was on hisfeet, shaking his head as he came around the desk. "Tom, use your head, "he said. "It's as much of a shock to me as it is to you, but you can'tafford to jump to false conclusions. .. . "

Tom Hunter looked up bitterly. "He's dead, isn't he?"

"Yes, he's dead. He must have died the instant of the explosion. .. . "

"You mean you don't know?"

"I wasn't there at the time it happened, no. "

"Then who was?"

 * * * * *

Major Briarton spread his hands helplessly. "Nobody was. Your father wasalone. From what we could tell later, he'd left the _Scavenger_ to landon one of his claims, using the ship's scooter for the landing. He wason the way back to the _Scavenger_ when the rear tank exploded. Therewasn't enough left of it to tell what went wrong . .. But it was anaccident, there was no evidence to suggest anything else. "

Tom looked at him. "You really believe that?"

"I can only tell you what we found. "

"Well, I don't believe it for a minute, " Tom said angrily. "How longhave you and Dad been friends? Twenty years? Twenty-five? Do you reallythink Dad would have an accident with a mining rig?"

"I know he was an expert engineer, " the major said. "But things canhappen that even an expert can't foresee, mining in the Belt. "

"Things like a fuel tank exploding? Not to Dad, they would never happen. I don't care what anybody says. .. . "

"Easy, Tom, " Greg said. 

"Well, I won't take it easy. Dad was too careful for something like thatto happen. If he had an accident, somebody _made_ it happen. "

Greg turned to the major. "What was Dad doing out there?"

"Mining. "

"By himself? No crew at all?"

"No, he was alone. "

"I thought the regulations said there always had to be at least two menworking an asteroid claim. "

"That's right. Your father had Johnny Coombs with him when he left SunLake City. They signed out as a team . .. And then Johnny came back toMars on the first shuttle ship. "

"How come?"

"Not even Johnny knows. Your father just sent him back, and there wasnothing we could do about it then. The U. N. Has no jurisdiction in thebelt, unless a major crime has been committed. " Major Briarton shook hishead helplessly. "If a man is determined to mine a claim all by himselfout there, he can find a dozen different ways to wiggle out of theregulations. "

"But Dad would never be that stupid, " Greg said. "If he was alone whenit happened, who found him?"

"A routine U. N. Patrol ship. When Roger failed to check in at theregular eight-hour signal, they went out to see what was wrong. But bythe time they reached him, it was too late to help. "

"I just don't get it, " Greg said. "Dad had more sense than to try tomine out there all by himself. "

"I know, " the major said. "I don't know the answer. I had the Patrolship go over the scene of the accident with a comb after they found whathad happened, but there was nothing there to find. It was an accident, and that's that. "

"What about Jupiter Equilateral?" Tom said hotly. "Everybody knows theywere out to get Dad . .. Why don't you find out what _they_ were doingwhen it happened, bring them in for questioning. .. . "

"I can't do that, I haven't a scrap of evidence, " the major saidwearily. 

"Why can't you? You're the Mars Coordinator, aren't you? You act likeyou're scared of them. "

Major Briarton's lips tightened angrily. "All right, since you put itthat way . .. I _am_ scared of them. They're big, and they're powerful. If they had their way, there wouldn't be any United Nations control onMars, there wouldn't be _anybody_ to fight them and keep them in check. There wouldn't be any independent miners out in the Belt, either, because they'd all be bought out or dead, and Earth would pay throughthe nose for every ounce of metal that they got from the Asteroid Belt. That company has been trying to drive the U. N. Off Mars for thirtyyears, and they've come so close to it that it scares me plenty. " Hepushed his chair back sharply and rose to his feet. "And that isexactly why I refuse to stir up a mess over this thing, unhappy asit is, without something more than suspicions and rumors to back meup . .. Because all Jupiter Equilateral needs is one big issue to make uslook like fools out here, and we're through. "

He crossed the room to a wall cabinet, opened it, and pulled out ascarred aluminum box. "We found this in the cabin of the _Scavenger_. Ithought you boys might want it. "

They both recognized it instantly . .. The battered old spacer's packthat Roger Hunter had used for as long as they could remember. It seemedto them, suddenly, as if a part of him had appeared here in the roomwith them. Greg looked at the box and turned away. "You open it, " hesaid to Tom in a sick voice. 

There was nothing much inside . .. Some clothing, a pipe and tobaccopouch, a jack knife, half a dozen other items so familiar that Tom couldhardly bear to touch them. At the bottom of the pack was the heavyleather gun case which had always held Roger Hunter's ancient . 44revolver. Tom dropped it back without even opening the flap. He closedthe box and took a deep breath. "Then you really believe that it was anaccident and nothing more?" he said to the major. 

Major Briarton shook his head. "What I think or don't think doesn't makeany difference. It just doesn't matter. In order to do anything, I'vegot to have evidence, and there just isn't any evidence. I can't eventake a ship out there for a second look, with the evidence I have, andthat's all there is to it. "

"But you think that maybe it wasn't an accident, just the same, " Tompursued. 

The major hesitated. Then he shook his head again. "I'm sorry, but I'vegot to stand on what I've said. And I think you'd better stand on it, too. There's nothing else to be done. "

 * * * * *

It should have been enough, but it wasn't. As Tom Hunter walked with hisbrother down the broad Upper Ramp to the business section of Sun LakeCity, he could not shake off the feeling of helpless anger, the growingconviction that Roger Hunter's death involved something more than thetragic accident in space that Major Briarton had insisted it was. 

"He didn't tell us everything he knew, " Tom said fiercely. "He didn'tsay everything he wanted to say, either. He doesn't think it was anaccident any more than I do. "

"How do you know, are you a mind reader?"

"No. "

"Well, Dad wasn't a superman, either. He was taking an awful risk, trying to work a mining rig by himself, and he had a bad break. Why doyou have to have somebody to blame for it?"

"Keep talking, " Tom said. "You'll convince yourself yet. "

Greg just jammed his hands in his pockets, and they walked in silencefor a moment. 

For Tom and Greg Hunter, Sun Lake City had always been home. Now theywalked along the Main Concourse, Tom with the aluminum box under hisarm, Greg with his own spacer's pack thrown over his shoulder. Theydidn't talk; rather than being drawn closer by the news of the tragedy, it seemed that they had drawn farther apart, as though the one commonlink that had held them together had suddenly been broken. 

Finally Tom broke the silence. "At least there's one thing we can do, "he said. "I'm going to call Johnny Coombs. "

He shortly found a phone booth and dialed a number. Johnny had been afriend of the family for years; he and Roger Hunter had been partners inmany mining ventures in the Asteroid Belt before Roger had taken hisposition with Jupiter Equilateral. If Johnny had any suspicions thatRoger Hunter's accident had been more than an accident, he certainlywould not hesitate to voice them. .. . 

After a dozen rings, Tom hung up, tried another number. There was noanswer there, either. Frowning, Tom rang the city's central pagingsystem. "Put in a personal call for Johnny Coombs, " he said when the"record" signal flashed on. "Tell him to contact the Hunters when hecomes in. We'll be at home. .. . "

They resumed their silent walk. When they reached H wing on the fourthlevel, they turned right down an apartment corridor, and stopped infront of a familiar doorway. Tom pressed his palm against thelock-plate, and the door swung open. 

It was home to them, the only home they had ever known. Soft lightssprang up on the walls of the apartment as the door opened. Tom saw theold bookcases lining the walls, the drafting-board and light at the farend of the room, the simple chairs and dining table, the door which ledinto the bedroom and kitchen beyond. The room had the slightlydisheveled look that it had had ever since Mom had died . .. A slipper onthe floor here, a book face down on the couch there. .. . 

It looked as though Dad had just stepped out for an hour or so. 

Tom was three steps into the room before he saw the visitor. 

The man was sitting comfortably in Roger Hunter's easy chair, a short, fat man with round pink cheeks that sagged a little and a double chinthat rested on his neck scarf. There were two other men in the room, both large and broad-shouldered; one of them nodded to the fat man, andmoved to stand between the boys and the door. 

The fat man was out of his seat before the boys could speak, smiling atthem and holding out his hand. "I wanted to be sure to see you beforeyou left the city, " he was saying, "so we just came on in to wait. Ihope you don't mind our . .. Butting in, so to speak. " He chuckled, looking from one twin to the other. "You don't know me, I suppose. I'mMerrill Tawney. Representing Jupiter Equilateral, you know. "

Tom took the card he was holding out, looked at the name and the tinygold symbol in the corner, a letter "J" in the center of a triangle. Hehanded the card to Greg. "I've seen you before, " he told the fat man. "What do you want with us?"

Tawney smiled again, spreading his hands. "We've heard about thetragedy, of course. A shocking thing . .. Roger was one of our group sorecently. We wanted you to know that if there is anything at all we cando to help, we'd be only too glad. .. . "

"Thanks, " Greg said. "But we're doing just fine. "

Tawney's smile tightened a little, but he hung onto it. "I always feltclose to your father, " he said. "All of us at Jupiter Equilateral did. We were all sorry to see him leave. "

"I bet you were, " Greg said, "he was the best mining engineer you everhad. But Dad could never stand liars, or crooked ways of doingbusiness. "

One of the men started for Greg, but the fat man stopped him with a waveof his hand. "We had our differences of opinion, " he said. "We sawthings one way, your father saw them another way. But he was a fine man, one of the finest. .. . "

"Look, Mr. Tawney, you'd better say what you came to say and get out ofhere, " Greg said dangerously, "before we give your friends heresomething to do. "

"I merely came to offer you some help, " Tawney said. He was no longersmiling. "Since your father's death, you two have acquired certainresponsibilities. I thought we might relieve you of some of them. "

"What sort of responsibilities?"

"You have an unmanned orbit-ship which is now a derelict in the AsteroidBelt. You have a scout-ship out there also. You can't just leave themthere as a navigation hazard to every ship traveling in the sector. There are also a few mining claims which aren't going to be of muchvalue to you now. "

"I see, " Greg said. "Are you offering to buy Dad's mining rig?"

"Well, I doubt very much that we'd have any use for it, as such. But wecould save you the trouble of going out there to haul it in. "

"That's very thoughtful, " Greg said. "How much are you offering?"

Tom looked up in alarm. "Wait a minute, " he said. "That rig's not forsale. .. . "

"How much?" Greg repeated. 

"Forty thousand dollars, " Merrill Tawney said. "Ship, rig and claims. We'll even pay the transfer tax. "

Tom stared at the man, wondering if he had heard right. He knew whatRoger Hunter had paid for the rig; he had been with Dad when the paperswere signed. Tawney's offer was three times as much as the rig wasworth. 

But Greg was shaking his head. "I don't think we could sell at thatprice. "

The fat man's hands fluttered. "You understand that those ships arehardly suited to a major mining operation like ours, " he said, "and theclaims. .. . " He dismissed them with a wave of his hand. "Still, we'd wantyou to be happy with the price. Say, forty-five thousand?"

Greg hesitated, shook his head again. "I guess we'd better think itover, Mr. Tawney. "

"Fifty thousand is absolutely the top, " Tawney said sharply. "I have thepapers right here, drawn up for your signatures, but I'm afraid we can'thold the offer open. "

"I don't know, we might want to do some mining ourselves, " Greg said. "For all we know, Dad might have struck some rich ore on one of thoseclaims. "

Tawney laughed. "I hardly think so. Those claims were all JupiterEquilateral rejects. Our own engineers found nothing but low grade oreon any of them. "

"Still, it might be fun to look. "

"It could be very expensive fun. Asteroid mining is a dangerousbusiness, even for experts. For amateurs. .. . " Tawney spread his hands. "Accidents occur. .. . "

"Yes, we've heard about those accidents, " Greg said coldly. "I don'tthink we're quite ready to sell, Mr. Tawney. We may never be ready tosell to you, so don't stop breathing until we call you. Now if there'snothing else, why don't you take your friends and go somewhere else?"

The fat man scowled; he started to say something more, then saw the lookon Greg's face, and shrugged. "I'd advise you to give it some carefulthought, " he said as he started for the door. "It might be very foolishfor you to try to use that rig. "

Smiling, Greg closed the door in his face. Then he turned and winked atTom. "Great fellow, Mr. Tawney. He almost had me sold. "

"So I noticed, " Tom said. "For a while I thought you were serious. "

"Well, we found out how high they'd go. That's a very generous outfitMr. Tawney works for. "

"Or else a very crooked one, " Tom said. "Are you wondering the samething I'm wondering?"

"Yes, " Greg said slowly. "I think I am. "

"Then that makes three of us, " a heavy voice rumbled from the bedroomdoor. 

 * * * * *

Johnny Coombs was a tall man, so thin he was almost gangling, with along nose and shaggy eyebrows jutting out over his eyes. With his rudelycropped hair and his huge hands, he looked like a caricature of afrontier Mars-farmer, but the blue eyes under the eyebrows were notdull. 

"Johnny!" Tom cried. "We were trying to find you. "

"I know, " Johnny said. "So have a lot of other people, includin' yourfriends there. "

"Well, did you hear what Tawney wanted?"

"I'm not so quick on my feet any more, " Johnny Coombs said, "but I gotnothin' wrong with my ears. " He scratched his jaw and looked up sharplyat Greg. "Not many people nowadays get a chance to bargain with MerrillTawney. "

Greg shrugged. "He named a price and I didn't like it. "

"Three times what the rig is worth, " Coombs said. 

"That's what I didn't like, " Greg said. "That outfit wouldn't give us abreak like that just for old times' sake. Do you think they would?"

"Well, I don't know, " Johnny said slowly. "Back before they built thecity here, they used to have rats getting into the grub. Came right downoff the ships. Got rid of most of them, finally, but it seems to mewe've still got some around, even if they've got different shapes now. "He jerked his thumb toward the bedroom door. "In case you're wondering, that's why I was standin' back there all this time . .. Just to make sureyou didn't sell out to Tawney no matter what price he offered. "

Tom jumped up excitedly. "Then you know something about Dad's accident!"

"No, I can't say I do. I wasn't there. "

"Do you really think it was an accident?"

"Can't prove it wasn't. "

"But at least you've got some ideas, " Tom said. 

"Takes more than ideas to make a case, " he said at length. "But there'sone thing I do know. I've got no proof, not a shred of it, but I'm sureof one thing just as sure as I'm on Mars. " He looked at the twinsthoughtfully. "Your dad wasn't just prospecting, out in the Belt. He'drun onto something out there, something big. "

The twins looked at him. "Run onto something?" Greg said. "You mean. .. . "

"I mean I think your dad hit a Big Strike out there, rich metal, a realbonanza lode. Maybe the biggest strike that's ever been made, " the minersaid slowly. "And then somebody got to him before he could bring it in. "

3. Too Many Warnings

For a moment, neither of the boys could say anything at all. 

From the time they had learned to talk, they had heard stories and talesthat the miners and prospectors told about the Big Strike, the pot ofgold at the end of the rainbow, the wonderful, elusive goal of every manwho had ever taken a ship into the Asteroid Belt. 

For almost a hundred and fifty years . .. Since the earliest days ofspace exploration . .. There had been miners prospecting in theAsteroids. Out there, beyond the orbit of Mars and inside the orbit ofJupiter, were a hundred thousand . .. Maybe a hundred million, for allanybody knew . .. Chunks of rock, metal and debris, spinning in silentorbit around the sun. Some few of the Asteroids were big enough to becalled planets . .. Ceres, five hundred miles in diameter; Juno, Vesta, Pallas, half a dozen more. A few hundred others, ranging in size fromten to a hundred miles in diameter, had been charted and followed intheir orbits by the observatories, first from Earth's airless Moon, thenfrom Mars. There were tens of thousands more that had never beencharted. Together they made up the Asteroid Belt, spread out in spacelike a broad road around the sun, echoing the age-old call of thebonanza. 

For there was wealth in the Asteroids . .. Wealth beyond a man's wildestdreams . .. If only he could find it. 

Earth, with its depleted iron ranges, its exhausted tin and coppermines, and its burgeoning population, was hungry for metal. Earth neededsteel, tin, nickel, and zinc; more than anything, Earth neededruthenium, the rare-earth catalyst that made the huge solar energyconverters possible. 

Mars was rich in the ores of these metals . .. But the ores were burieddeep in the ground. The cost of mining them, and of lifting the heavyore from Mars' gravitational field and carrying it to Earth wasprohibitive. Only the finest carbon steel, and the radioactive metals, smelted and purified on Mars and transported to Earth, could be madeprofitable. 

But from the Asteroid Belt, it was a different story. There was nogravity to fight on the tiny asteroids. On these chunks of debris, themetals lay close to the surface, easy to mine. Ships orbiting in theBelt could fill their holds with their precious metal cargoes andtransfer them in space to the interplanetary orbit-ships spinning backtoward Earth. It was hard work, and dangerous work; most of the ore waslow-grade, and brought little return. But always there was the lure ofthe Big Strike, the lode of almost-pure metal that could bring a fortuneback to the man who found it. 

 * * * * *

A few such strikes had been made. Forty years before a single claim hadbrought its owner seventeen million dollars in two years. A dozen othermen had stumbled onto fortunes in the Belt . .. But such metal-richfragments were grains of sand in a mighty river. For every man who foundone, a thousand others spent years looking and then perished in thefruitless search. 

And now Johnny Coombs was telling them that their father had been one ofthat incredible few. 

"You really think Dad hit a bonanza lode out there?"

"That's what I said. "

"Did you see it with your own eyes?"

"No. "

"You weren't even out there with him!"

"No. "

"Then why are you so sure he found something?"

"Because he told me so, " Johnny Coombs said quietly. 

The boys looked at each other. "He actually _said_ he'd found a richlode?" Tom asked eagerly. 

"Not exactly, " Johnny said. "Matter of fact, he never actually told me_what_ he'd found. He needed somebody to sign aboard the _Scavenger_with him in order to get a clearance to blast off, but he never did planto take me out there with him. 'I can't take you now, Johnny, ' he toldme. 'I've found something out there, but I've got to work it alone for awhile. ' I asked him what he'd found, and he just gave me that funnylittle grin of his and said, 'Never mind what it is, it's big enough forboth of us. You just keep your mouth shut, and you'll find out soonenough. ' And then he wouldn't say another word until we were homing inon the shuttle ship to drop me off. "

Johnny finished his coffee and pushed the cup aside. "I knew he wasn'tjoking. He was excited, and I think he was scared, too. Just before Ileft him, he said, 'There's one other thing, Johnny. Things might notwork out quite the way I figure them, and if they don't . .. Make surethe twins know what I've told you. ' I told him I would, and headed back. That was the last I heard from him until the Patrol ship found himfloating in space with a torn-open suit and a ruined scooter floating afew miles away. "

"Do you think that Jupiter Equilateral knew Dad had found something?"Tom asked. 

"Who knows? I'm sure that _he_ never told them, but it's awful hard tokeep a secret like that, and they sound awful eager to buy that rig, "Johnny Coombs said. 

"Yes, and it doesn't make sense. I mean, if they were responsible forDad's accident, why didn't they just check in for him on schedule andthen quietly bring in their rig to jump the claim?"

"Maybe they couldn't find it, " Johnny said. "If they'd killed your dad, they wouldn't have dared hang around very long right then. Even ifthey'd kept the signal going, a Patrol ship might have come into theregion any time. And if a U. N. Patrol ship ever caught them working adead man's claim without reporting the dead man, the suit would reallystart to leak. " Johnny shook his head. "Remember, your Dad had a dozenclaims out there. They might have had to scout the whole works to findthe right one. Much easier to do it out in the open, with yoursignatures on a claim transfer. But one thing is sure . .. If they _knew_what Roger found out there, and where it was, Tawney would never beoffering you triple price for the rig. "

"Then whatever Dad found is still out there, " Tom said. 

"I'd bet my last dime on it. "

"There might even be something to show that the accident wasn't anaccident, " Tom went on. "Something even the Major would have to admitwas evidence. "

Johnny Coombs pursed his lips, looking up at Tom. "Might be, " heconceded. 

"Well, what are we waiting for? We turned Tawney's offer down . .. Hemight be sending a crew out to jump the claim right now. "

"If he hasn't already, " Johnny said. 

"Then we've got to get out there. "

Johnny turned to Greg. "You could pilot us out and handle thenavigation, and as for Tom. .. . "

"As for Tom, he could get sick all over the place and keep us busy justtaking care of him, " Greg said sourly. "You and me, yes. Not Tom. Youdon't know that boy in a spaceship. "

Tom started to his feet, glaring at his brother. "That's got nothing todo with it. .. . "

"It's true, isn't it? You'd be a big help out there. "

Johnny looked at Tom. "You always get sick in free fall?"

"Look, let's be reasonable, " Greg said. "You'd just be in the way. Thereare plenty of things you could do right here, and Johnny and I couldhandle the rig alone. .. . "

Tom faced his brother angrily. "If you think I'm going to stay here andkeep myself company, you're crazy, " he said. "This is one show you'renot going to run, so just quit trying. If you go out there, I go. "

Greg shrugged. "Okay, Twin. It's your stomach, not mine. "

"Then let me worry about it. "

"I hope, " Johnny said, "that that's the worst we have to worry about. Let's get started planning. "

 * * * * *

Time was the factor uppermost in their minds. They knew that even underthe best of conditions, it could take weeks to outfit and prepare for arun out to the Belt. A ship had to be leased and fueled; there weresupplies to lay in. There was the problem of clearance to take care of, claims to be verified and spotted, orbit coordinates to be computed andchecked . .. A thousand details to be dealt with, anyone of which mightdelay embarkation from an hour to a day or more. 

It was not surprising that Tom and Greg were dubious when Johnny toldthem they could be ready to clear ground in less than twenty-four hours. Even knowing that Merrill Tawney might already have a mining crew atwork on Roger Hunter's claims, they could not believe that the red tapeof preparation and clearance could be cut away so swiftly. 

They underestimated Johnny Coombs. 

Six hours after he left them, he was back with a signed lease givingthem the use of a scout-ship and fuel to take them out to the Belt andback again; the ship was in the Sun Lake City racks waiting for themwhenever they were ready. 

"What kind of a ship?" Greg wanted to know. 

"A Class III Flying Dutchman with overhauled atomics and hydrazineside-jets, " Johnny said, waving the transfer order. "Think you can flyit?"

Greg whistled. "Can I? I trained in a Dutchman . .. Just about thefastest scouter there is. What condition?"

"Lousy . .. But it's fueled, with six weeks' supplies in the hold, and itdoesn't cost us a cent. Courtesy of a friend. You'll have to check itover, but it'll do. "

They inspected the ship, a weatherbeaten scouter that looked like arelic of the '90's. Inside there were signs of many refittings andoverhauls, but the atomics were well shielded, and it carried asurprising chemical fuel auxiliary for the cabin size. Greg disappearedinto the engine room, and Tom and Johnny left him testing valves andcircuits while they headed down to the U. N. Registry office in thecontrol tower. 

On the way Johnny outlined the remaining outfitting steps. Tom would beresponsible for getting the clearance permit through Registry; Johnnywould check out all supplies, and then contact the observatory for theorbit coordinates of Roger Hunter's claims. 

"I thought the orbits were mapped on the claim papers, " Tom said. "Imean, every time an asteroid is claimed, the orbit has to becharted. .. . "

"That's right, but the orbit goes all the way around the sun. We knowwhere the _Scavenger_ was when the Patrol ship found her . .. But she'sbeen travelling in orbit ever since. The observatory computer willpinpoint her for us and chart a collision course so we can cut out andmeet her instead of trailing her for a week. Do you have the crew-papersGreg and I signed?"

"Right here. "

They were stepping off the ramp below the ship when a man loomed up outof the shadows. It was a miner Tom had never seen before. Johnny noddedas he approached. "Any news, Jack?"

"Quiet as a church, " the man said. 

"We'll be held up another eight hours at least, " Johnny said. "Don't goto sleep on us, Jack. "

"Don't worry about us sleepin', " the man said grimly. "There's beennobody around but yourselves, so far . .. Except the clearanceinspector. "

Johnny looked up sharply. "You check his papers?"

"_And_ his prints. He was all right. "

Johnny took Tom's arm, and they headed through the gate toward thecontrol tower. "I guess I'm just naturally suspicious, " he grinned, "butI'd sure hate to have a broken cut-off switch, or a fuel valve go out ofwhack at just the wrong moment. "

"You think Tawney would dare to try something here?" Tom said. 

"Never hurts to check. We've got our hands full for a few hours gettingset, so I just asked my friends to keep an eye on things. Always did saythat a man who's going to gamble is smart to cover his bets. "

At the control tower they parted, and Tom walked into the clearanceoffice. Johnny's watch-man had startled him, and for the first time hefelt a chill of apprehension. If they were right . .. If this trip to theBelt were not a wild goose chase from the very start . .. Then RogerHunter's accident had been no accident at all. 

Quite suddenly, Tom felt very thankful that Johnny Coombs hadfriends. .. . 

 * * * * *

"I don't like it, " the Major said, facing Tom and Greg across the deskin the U. N. Registry office below the control tower. "You've gotten anidea in your heads, and you just won't listen to reason. "

Somewhere above them, Tom could hear the low-pitched rumble of ascout-ship blasting from its launching rack. "All we want to do is goout and work Dad's claim, " he said for the second time. 

"I know perfectly well what you want to do, that's why I told the peoplehere to alert me if you tried to clear a ship. You don't know whatyou're doing . .. And I'm not going to sign those clearance papers. "

"Why not?" Greg said. 

"Because you're going out there asking for trouble, that's why not. "

"But you told us before that there wasn't any trouble. Dad had anaccident, that was all. So how could we get in trouble?"

The Major's face was an angry red. He started to say something, thenstopped, and scowled at them instead. They met his stare. Finally hethrew up his hands. "All right, so I can't legally stop you, " he said. "But at least I can beg you to use your heads. You're wasting time andmoney on a foolish idea. You're walking into dangers and risks that youcan't handle, and I hate to see it happen. 

"Mining in the Belt is a job for experienced men, not rank novices. "

"Johnny Coombs is no novice. "

"No, but he's lost his wits, taking you two out there. "

"Well, are there any other dangers you have in mind?"

Once more the Major searched for words, and failed to find them. "No, "he sighed, "and you wouldn't listen if I did. "

"It seems everybody is warning us about how dangerous this trip islikely to be, " Greg said quietly. "Last night it was Merrill Tawney. Heoffered to buy us out, he was so eager for a deal that he offered us afantastic price. Then Johnny tells us that Dad mined some rich ore whenhe was out there on his last trip, but never got a chance to bring it inbecause of his . .. Accident. Up until now I haven't been so sure Dad_didn't_ just have an accident, but now I'm beginning to wonder. Toomany people have been warning us. .. . "

"You're determined to go out there, then?"

"That's about right. "

The Major picked up the clearance papers, glanced at them quickly, and signed them. "All right, you're cleared. I hate to do it, but Isuppose I'd go with you if the law would let me. And I'll tell you onething . .. If you can find a single particle of evidence that will linkJupiter Equilateral or anybody else to your father's death, I'll use allthe power I have to break them. " He handed the papers back to Tom. "Butbe careful, because if Jupiter Equilateral is involved in it, they'regoing to play dirty. "

At the door he turned. "Good trip, and good luck. "

Tom folded the papers and stuck them thoughtfully into his pocket. 

They met Johnny Coombs in the Registry offices upstairs; Tom patted hispocket happily. "We're cleared in forty-five minutes, " he said. 

Johnny grinned. "Then we're all set. " They headed up the ramp, reachedground level, and started out toward the launching racks. 

At the far end of the field a powerful Class I Ranger, one of theJupiter Equilateral scout fleet, was settling down into its slot in aperfect landing maneuver. The triangle-and-J-insignia gleamed brightlyon her dark hull. She was a rich, luxurious-looking ship. Many miners onMars could remember when Jupiter Equilateral had been nothing more thana tiny mining company working claims in the remote "equilateral" clusterof asteroids far out in Jupiter's orbit. Gradually the company had grownand flourished, accumulating wealth and power as it grew, leaving behindit a thousand half-confirmed stories of cheating, piracy, murder andtheft. Other small mining outfits had fallen by the wayside until nowover two-thirds of all asteroid mining claims were held by JupiterEquilateral, and the small independent miners were forced more and moreto take what was left. 

They reached the gate to the Dutchman's launching slot and entered. 

Inside the ship Tom and Johnny strapped down while Greg made his finalcheck-down on the engines, gyros and wiring. The cabin was a tiny vault, with none of the spacious "living room" of the orbit-ships. Tom leanedback in the accelleration cot, and listened to the count-down signalsthat came at one minute intervals now. In the earphones he could hearthe sporadic chatter between Greg and the control tower. No hint thatthis was anything but a routine blastoff. .. . 

But there was trouble ahead, Tom was certain of that. Everybody on Marswas aware that Roger Hunter's sons were heading out to the Belt to pickup where he had left off. Greg had secured a leave of absence fromProject Star-Jump . .. Unhappily granted, even though his part in theirprogram had already been disrupted. Even they had heard the rumors thatwere adrift. .. . 

And if there was trouble now, they were on their own. The Asteroid Beltwas a wilderness, untracked and unexplored, and except for an almostinsignificant fraction, completely unknown. If there was trouble outthere, there would be no one to help. 

Somewhere below the engines roared, and Tom felt the weight on hischest, sudden and breath-taking. 

They were on their way. 

4. "Between Mars and Jupiter. .. . "

After all the tension of preparing for it, the trip out seemedinterminable. 

They were all impatient to reach their destination. During blastoff andaccelleration they had watched Mars dwindle to a tiny red dot; then timeseemed to stop altogether, and there was nothing to do but wait. 

For the first eight hours of free fall, after the engines had cut out, Tom was violently ill. He fought it desperately, gulping the pillsJohnny offered and trying to keep them down. Gradually the waves ofnausea subsided, but it was a full twenty-four hours before Tom feltlike stirring from his cot to take up the shipboard routine. 

And then there was nothing for him to do. Greg handled the navigationskilfully, while Johnny kept radio contact and busied himself in thestoreroom, so Tom spent hours at the viewscreen. On the second day hespotted a tiny chunk of rock that was unquestionably an asteroid movingswiftly toward them. It passed at a tangent ten thousand miles ahead ofthem, and Greg started work at the computer, feeding in the data tapesthat would ultimately guide the ship to its goal. 

 * * * * *

Pinpointing a given spot in the Asteroid Belt was a gargantuan task, virtually impossible without the aid of the ship's computer to computeorbits, speeds, and distances. Tom spent more and more time at theviewscreen, searching the blackness of space for more asteroidsightings. But except for an occasional tiny bit of debris hurtling by, he saw nothing but the changeless panorama of stars. 

Johnny Coombs found him there on the third day, and laughed at his sourexpression. "Gettin' impatient?"

"Just wondering when we'll reach the Belt, is all, " Tom said. 

Johnny chuckled. "Hope you're not holdin' your breath. We've alreadybeen _in_ the Belt for the last forty-eight hours. "

"Then where are all the asteroids?" Tom said. 

"Oh, they're here. You just won't see many of them. People always thinkthere ought to be dozens of them around, like sheep on a hillside, butit just doesn't work that way. " Johnny peered at the screen. "Of course, to an astronomer the Belt is just loaded . .. Hundreds of thousands ofchunks, all sizes from five hundred miles in diameter on down. Butactually, those chunks are all tens of thousands of miles apart, and theBelt _looks_ just as empty as the space between Mars and Earth. "

"Well, I don't see how we're ever going to find one particular rock, "Tom said, watching the screen gloomily. 

"It's not too hard. Every asteroid has its own orbit around the sun, andeveryone that's been registered as a claim has the orbit charted. Theone we want isn't where it was when your Dad's body was found . .. It'sbeen travelling in its orbit ever since. But by figuring in the fourthdimension, we can locate it. "

Tom blinked. "Fourth dimension?"

"Time, " Johnny Coombs said. "If we just used the three lineardimensions . .. Length, width and depth . .. We'd end up at the place wherethe asteroid _was_, but that wouldn't help us much because it's beenmoving in orbit ever since the Patrol Ship last pinpointed it. So wefigure in a fourth dimension . .. The time that's passed since it was lastspotted . .. And we can chart a collision course with it, figure out justwhere _we'll_ have to be to meet it. "

It was the first time that the idea of time as a "dimension" had evermade sense to Tom. They talked some more, until Johnny started bringingin fifth and sixth dimensions, and problems of irrational space andhyperspace, and got even himself confused. 

"Anyway, " Tom said, "I'm glad we've got a computer aboard. "

"And a navigator, " Johnny added. "Don't sell your brother short. "

"Fat chance of that. Greg would never stand for it. "

Johnny frowned. "You lads don't like each other very much, do you?" hesaid. 

Tom was silent for a moment. Then he looked away. "We get along, Iguess. "

"Maybe. But sometimes just gettin' along isn't enough. Especially whenthere's trouble. Give it a thought, when you've got a minute or two. .. . "

Later, the three of them went over the computer results together. Johnnyand Greg fed the navigation data into the ship's drive mechanism, checking and rechecking speeds and inclination angles. Already theDutchman's orbital speed was matching the speed of Roger Hunter'sasteroid . .. But the orbit had to be tracked so that they would arriveat the exact point in space to make contact. Tom was assigned to theviewscreen, and the long wait began. 

He spotted their destination point an hour before the computer hadpredicted contact . .. At first a tiny pinpoint of reflected light in thescope, gradually resolving into two pinpoints, then three in a tinycluster. Greg cut in the rear and lateral jets momentarily, stabilizingtheir contact course; the dots grew larger. 

Ten minutes later, Tom could see their goal clearly in theviewscreen . .. The place where Roger Hunter had died. 

 * * * * *

It was neither large nor small for an asteroid, an irregular chunk ofrock and metal, perhaps five miles in diameter, lighted only by the dullreddish glow from the dime-sized sun. Like many such jagged chunks ofdebris that sprinkled the Belt, this asteroid did not spin on any axis, but constantly presented the same face to the sun. 

Just off the bright side the orbit-ship floated, stable in its orbitnext to the big rock, but so small in comparison that it looked like atiny glittering toy balloon. And clamped on its rack on the orbit-ship'sside, airlock to airlock, was the _Scavenger_, the little scout shipthat Roger Hunter had brought out from Mars on his last journey. 

While Greg maneuvered the Dutchman into the empty landing rack below the_Scavenger_ on the hull of the orbit-ship, Johnny scanned the blacknessaround them through the viewscope, a frown wrinkling his forehead. 

"Do you see anybody?" Tom asked. 

"Not a sign . .. But I'm really looking for other rocks. I can see threethat aren't too far away, but none of them have claim marks. This onemust have been the only one Roger was working. "

They stared at the ragged surface of the planetoid. Raw veins ofmetallic ore cut through it with streaks of color, but most of thesun-side showed only the dull gray of iron and granite. There wasnothing unusual about the surface that Tom could see. "Could there beanything on the dark side?"

"Could be, " Johnny said. "We'll have to go over it foot by foot . .. Butfirst, we should go through the orbit-ship and the _Scavenger_. If thePatrol ship missed anything, we want to know it. "

The interior of the orbit-ship was dark. It spun slowly on its axis, giving them just enough weight so they would not float free wheneverthey moved. Their boots clanged on the metal decks as they climbed upthe curving corridor toward the control cabin. 

Then Johnny threw a light switch, and they stared around them inamazement. 

The cabin was a shambles. Everything that was not bolted down had beenripped open and thrown aside. 

Greg whistled through his teeth. "The Major said the Patrol crew hadgone through the ship . .. But he didn't say they'd wrecked it. "

"They didn't, " Johnny said grimly. "No Patrol ship would ever do this. Somebody else has been here since. " He turned to the control panel, flipped switches, checked gauges. "Hydroponics are all right. Atmosphereis still good; we can take off these helmets. Fuel looks all right, storage holds . .. " He shook his head. "They weren't looting, but theywere looking for something, all right. Let's look around and see if theymissed anything. "

It took them an hour to survey the wreckage. Not a compartment had beenmissed. Even the mattresses on the accelleration cots had been tornopen, the spring-stuffing tossed about helter-skelter. Tom went throughthe lock into the _Scavenger_; the scout ship too had been searched, rapidly but thoroughly. 

But there was no sign of anything that Roger Hunter might have found. 

Back in the control cabin Johnny was checking the ship's log. The oldentries were on microfilm, stored on their spools near the reader. Morerecent entries were still recorded on tape. From the jumbled order, there was no doubt that marauders had examined them. Johnny ran throughthem nevertheless, but there was nothing of interest. Routinenavigational data; a record of the time of contact with the asteroid; alog of preliminary observations on the rock; nothing more. The last taperecorded the call-schedule Roger Hunter had set up with the Patrol, aroutine precaution used by all miners, to bring help if for some reasonthey should fail to check in on schedule. 

There was no hint in the log of any extraordinary discovery. 

"Are any tapes missing?" Greg wanted to know. 

"Doesn't look like it. There's one here for each day-period. "

"I wonder, " Tom said. "Dad always kept a personal log. You know, a sortof a diary, on microfilm. " He peered into the film storage bin, checkedthrough the spools. Then, from down beneath the last row of spools hepulled out a slightly smaller spool. "Here's something our friendsmissed, I bet. "

It was not really a diary, just a sequence of notes, calculations andideas that Roger Hunter had jotted down and microfilmed from time totime. The entries on the one spool went back for several years. Tom fedthe spool into the reader, and they stared eagerly at the last fewentries. 

A series of calculations, covering several pages, but with no notes toindicate what, exactly, Roger Hunter had been calculating. "Looks likehe was plotting an orbit, " Greg said. "But what orbit? And why? Nothinghere to tell. "

"It must have been important, though, or Dad wouldn't have filmed thepages, " Tom said. "Anything else?"

Another sheet with more calculations. Then a short paragraph written inRoger Hunter's hurried scrawl. "No doubt now what it is, " the wordssaid. "Wish Johnny were here, show him a _real_ bonanza, but he'll knowsoon enough if. .. . "

They stared at the scribbled, uncompleted sentence. Then Johnny Coombslet out a whoop. "I told you he found something! And he found it _here_, not somewhere else. "

"Hold it, " Greg said, peering at the film reader. "There's somethingmore on the last page, but I can't read it. "

Tom blinked at the entry. "'Inter Jovem et Martem planetam interposui, '"he read. He scratched his head. "That's Latin, and it's famous, too. Kepler wrote it, back before the asteroids were discovered. 'BetweenJupiter and Mars I will put a planet. '"

Greg and Johnny looked at each other. "I don't get it, " Greg said. 

"Dad told me about that once, " Tom said. "Kepler couldn't understandthe long jump between Mars and Jupiter, when Venus and Earth and Marswere so close together. He figured there ought to be a planet outhere . .. And he was right, in a way. There wasn't any one planet, unlessyou'd call Ceres a planet, but it wasn't just empty space between Marsand Jupiter either. The asteroids were here. "

"But why would Dad be writing that down?" Greg asked. "And what has itgot to do with what he found out here?" He snapped off the reader switchangrily. "I don't understand any of this, and I don't like it. If Dadfound something out here, where is it? And who tore this ship apartafter the Patrol ship left?"

"Probably the same ones that caused the 'accident' in the first place, "Johnny said. 

"But why did they come back?" Greg protested. "If they killed Dad, theymust have known what he'd found before they killed him. "

"You'd think so, " Johnny conceded. 

"Then why take the risk of coming back here again?"

"Maybe they _didn't_ know, " Tom said thoughtfully. 

"What do you mean?"

"I mean maybe they killed him too soon. Maybe they thought they knewwhat he'd found and where it was . .. And then found out that theydidn't, after all. Maybe Dad hid it. .. . "

Johnny Coombs shook his head. "No way a man can hide an ore strike. "

"But suppose Dad did, somehow, and whoever killed him couldn't find it?It would be too late to make him tell them. They'd _have_ to come backand look again, wouldn't they? And from the way they went about it, itlooks as though they weren't having much luck. "

"Then whatever Dad found would still be here, somewhere, " Greg said. 

"That's right. "

"But where? There's nothing on this ship. "

"Maybe not, " Tom said, "but I'd like to take a look at that asteroidbefore we give up. "

 * * * * *

They paused in the big ore-loading lock to reclamp their pressuresuit helmets, and looked down at the jagged chunk of rock a hundredyards below them. In the lock they had found scooters . .. The littleone-man propulsion units so commonly used for short distance work inspace . .. But decided not to use them. "They're clumsy, " Johnny said, "and the bumper units in your suits will do just as well for thisdistance. " He looked down at the rock. "I'll take the center section. You each take an edge and work in. Look for any signs of work on thesurface . .. Chisel marks, Murexide charges, anything. "

"What about the dark side?" Greg asked. 

"If we want to see anything there, we'll either have to rig up lights orturn the rock around, " Johnny said. "Let's cover this side first and seewhat we come up with. "

He turned and leaped from the airlock, moving gracefully down towardthe surface, using the bumper unit to guide himself with short burstsof compressed CO_{2}, from the nozzle. Greg followed, pushing offharder and passing Johnny halfway down. Tom hesitated. It looked easyenough . .. But he remembered the violent nausea of his first few hoursof free fall. 

Finally he gritted his teeth and jumped off after Greg. Instantly heknew that he had jumped too hard. He shot away from the orbit-ship likea bullet; the jagged asteroid surface leaped up at him. Frantically hegrabbed for the bumper nozzle and pulled the trigger, trying to breakhis fall. 

He felt the nozzle jerk in his hand, and then, abruptly, he was spinningoff at a wild tangent from the asteroid, head over heels. For a momentit seemed that asteroid, orbit-ship and stars were all wheeling crazilyaround him. Then he realized what had happened. He fired the bumperagain, and went spinning twice as fast. The third time he timed theblast, aiming the nozzle carefully, and the spinning almost stopped. 

He fought down nausea, trying to get his bearings. He was three hundredyards out from the asteroid, almost twice as far from the orbit-ship. Hestared down at the rock as he moved slowly away from it. Before, fromthe orbit-ship, he had been able to see only the bright side of the hugerock; now he could see the sharp line of darkness across one side. 

But there was something else. .. . 

He fired the bumper again to steady himself, peering into the blacknessbeyond the light-line on the rock. He snapped on his helmet lamp, aimedthe spotlight beam down to the dark rock surface. Greg and Johnny werelanding now on the bright side, with Greg almost out of sight over the"horizon" . .. But Tom's attention was focussed on something he could seeonly now as he moved away from the asteroid surface. 

His spotlight caught it . .. Something bright and metallic, completelyhidden on the dark side, lying in close to the surface but not quite onthe surface. Then suddenly Tom knew what it was . .. The braking jets ofa Class I Ranger, crouching beyond the reach of sunlight in the shadowof the asteroid. .. . 

Swiftly he fired the bumper again, turning back toward the orbit-ship. His hand went to the speaker-switch, but he caught himself in time. Anywarning shouted to Greg and Johnny would certainly be picked up by theship. But he had to give warning somehow. 

He tumbled into the airlock, searching for a flare in his web belt. Itwas a risk . .. The Ranger ship might pick up the flash . .. But he had totake it. He was unscrewing the fuse cap from the flare when he saw Gregand Johnny leap up from the asteroid surface. 

Then he saw what had alarmed them. Slowly, the Ranger was moving outfrom its hiding place behind the rock. Tom reached out to catch Greg ashe came plummeting into the lock. There was a flash from the Ranger'sside, and Johnny Coombs' voice boomed in his earphones: "Get inside! Getthe lock closed, fast . .. Hurry up, can't waste a second. "

Johnny caught the lip of the lock, dragged himself inside frantically. They were spinning the airlock door closed when they heard thethundering explosion, felt the ship lurch under their feet, and allthree of them went crashing to the deck. 

5. The Black Raider

For a stunned moment they were helpless as they struggled to pickthemselves up. The stable airlock deck was suddenly no longerstable . .. It was lurching back and forth like a rowboat on a heavy sea, and they grabbed the shock-bars along the bulkheads to steady themselves. "What happened?" Greg yelped. "I saw a ship. .. . "

As if in answer there was another crash belowdecks, and the lurchingbecame worse. "They're firing on us, that's what happened, " JohnnyCoombs growled. 

"Well, they're shaking us loose at the seams, " Greg said. "We've got toget this crate out of here. " He reached for his helmet, began unsnappinghis pressure suit. 

"Leave it on, " Johnny snapped. 

"But we can't move fast enough in these things. .. . "

"Leave it on all the same. If they split the hull open, you'll be deadin ten seconds without a suit. "

Somewhere below they heard the steady _clang-clang-clang_ of theemergency-station's bell . .. Already one of the compartments somewherehad been breached, and was pouring its air out into the vacuum of space. "But what can we do?" Greg said. "They could tear us apart!"

"First, we see what they've already done, " Johnny said, spinning thewheel on the inner lock. "If they plan to tear us apart, we're done for, but they may want to try to board us. .. . We'll wait and see. "

An orbit-ship under fire was completely vulnerable. One well-placedshell could rip it open like a balloon. 

Tom and Greg followed Johnny to where the control cabin was located. Incontrol they found alarm lights flashing in three places on theinstrument panel. Another muffled crash roared through the ship, and anew row of lights sprang on along the panel. 

"How are the engines?" Greg said, staring at the flickering lights. 

"Can't tell. Looks like they're firing at the main jets, but they'veripped open three storage holds, too. They're trying to disable us. .. . "

"What about the _Scavenger_?"

Johnny checked a gauge. "The airlock compartment is all right, so thescout ships haven't been touched. They couldn't fire on them withoutsplitting the whole ship down the middle. " Johnny leaned forward, flipped on the viewscreen, and an image came into focus. 

 * * * * *

It was a Class I Ranger, and there was no doubt of its origin. Like theone they had seen berthing at the Sun Lake City racks, this ship had aglossy black hull, with the golden triangle-and-J insignia standing outin sharp relief in the dim sunlight. 

"It's our friends, all right, " Johnny said. 

"But what are they trying to do?" Tom said. 

Even as they watched, a pair of scooters broke from the side of theRanger and slid down toward the sun side of the asteroid. "I don'tknow, " Johnny said. "I think they intended to stay hidden, until Tomlost control of his bumper, and got far enough around there to spotthem. " He frowned as the first scooter touched down on the asteroidsurface. 

"Can't we fire on them?" Greg said angrily. 

"Not the way this tub is lurching around. They've got our main gyros, and the auxilliaries aren't powerful enough to steady us. Another blastor two could send us spinning like a top, and we'd have nothing tostabilize us. .. . "

There was another flash from the Ranger's hull, and the ship jerkedunder their feet. "Well, we're a sitting duck here, " Greg said. "Maybethose engines will still work. " He slid into the control seat, flippedthe drive switches to fire the side jets in opposite pairs. They fired, steadying the lurching of the ship somewhat, but there was no responsefrom the main engines. "No good. We couldn't begin to run from them. We're stuck here. "

"They could outrun us anyway, " Tom said, watching the viewscreen. "Andthey're moving in closer now. "

"They're going to board us, " Tom said. 

Johnny nodded, his eyes suddenly bright. "I think you're right. And ifthey do, we may have a chance. But we've got to split up. .. . Greg, youtake the control cabin here, try to keep them out if you can. Tom cancover the main corridor to the storage holds, and I'll take the engineroom section. That will sew up the entrances to control, here, and giveus a chance to stop them. "

"They may have a dozen men, " Tom said. "They could just shoot us down. "

"I don't think so, " Johnny said. "They want _us_, not the ship, or theywouldn't bother to board us. We may not be able to hold them off, but wecan try. "

"What about making a run for it in the _Scavenger_?" Greg said. 

Johnny chuckled grimly. "It'd be a mighty short run. That Ranger's gothoming shells that could blow the _Scavenger_ to splinters if we triedit. Our best bet is to put up such a brawl that they think twice abouttaking us. "

They parted in the corridor outside control, Johnny heading down for theengine room corridors, while Tom ran up toward the main outer-shellcorridor, a Markheim stunner in his hand. The entire outer shell of theship was storage space, each compartment separately sealed and connectedwith the two main corridors that circled the ship. On each side thesecorridors came together to join the short entry corridors from thescout-ship airlocks. 

Tom knew that the only way the ship could be boarded was through thoselocks; a man stationed at the place where the main corridors joinedcould block any entry from the locks . .. As long as he could hold hisposition. Tom reached the junction of the corridors, and crouched closeto the wall. By peering around the corner, he had a good view of theairlock corridor. 

Tom gripped the Markheim tightly, and he dialed it down to a narrowbeam. Nobody had ever been killed by a stunner . .. But a direct hit witha narrow beam could paralyze a man for three days. 

There was movement at the far end of the airlock corridor. A helmetedhead peered around the turn in the corridor; then two men in pressuresuits moved into view, walking cautiously, weapons in hand. Tom shrankback against the wall, certain they had not seen him. He waited untilthey were almost to the junction with the main corridor; then he tookaim and pressed the trigger stud on his Markheim. There was an uglyripping sound as the gun jerked in his hand. The two men dropped asthough they had been pole-axed. 

A shout, a scrape of metal against metal, and a shot ripped back at himfrom the end of the corridor. Tom jerked back fast, but not quite fastenough. He felt a sledge-hammer blow on his shoulder, felt his arm jerkin a cramping spasm while the corridor echoed the low rumble ofsub-sonics. He flexed his arm to work out the spasm . .. They were usinga wide beam, hardly strong enough to stun a man. His heart pounded. Theywere being careful, very careful. .. . 

Two more men rounded the bend in the corridor. Tom fired, but they hitthe deck fast, and the beam missed. The first one jerked to his feet, charged up the corridor toward him, dodging and sliding. Tom followedhim in his sights, fired three times as the Markheim heated up in hishand. The beam hit the man's leg, dumping him to the deck, and bouncedoff to catch the second one. 

But now there was another sound, coming from the corridor behind him. Voices, shouts, clanging of boots. He pressed against the wall, listening. The sounds were from below. They must have gotten pastJohnny . .. Probably the men on the scooters. Tom looked aroundhelplessly. If they came up behind him, he was trapped in a crossfire. But if he left his position, more men could come in through the airlock. Even now two more came around the bend, starting up the corridor forhim. .. . 

Quite suddenly, the lights went out. 

The men stopped. Sound stopped. The corridor was pitch black. Tom firedwildly down the corridor, heard shouts and oaths from the men, but hecould see nothing. Then, ahead, a flicker of light as a headlamp wenton. The men from the airlock were close, moving in on him, and frombehind he saw light bouncing off the corridor walls. .. . 

He jerked open the hatch to a storage hold, ducked inside, and slammedthe hatch behind him. He pressed against the wall, panting. 

He waited. 

Suddenly an idea flickered in Tom's mind. 

It was a chance . .. A long chance . .. But it was something. If they weregoing to be captured in spite of anything they could do, even a longchance would be worth trying. .. . 

He waited in the darkness, tried to think it through. It was a wildidea, an utterly impossible idea, he had never heard of it being triedbefore . .. But _any_ chance was better than none. He remembered whatJohnny had said in the control cabin. The Ranger ship would have homingshells. An attempt to make a run with the _Scavenger_ might bedisastrous. 

He thought about it, trying to reason it out. The Jupiter Equilateralmen obviously wanted them alive. They did not dare to kill RogerHunter's sons, because Roger Hunter might have told them where thebonanza was. And Jupiter Equilateral would not dare let anyone of thembreak away. If one of them got back to Mars, the whole U. N. Patrol wouldbe out in the Belt. .. . 

The plan became clear in his mind, but he had to let Greg know. Hefingered the control of his helmet radio. The boarding party would havea snooper, but if he was quick, they wouldn't have time to nail him. Hebuzzed an attention code. "Greg? Can you hear me?"

Silence. He buzzed again, and waited. What was wrong? Had they alreadybroken through to the control cabin and taken Greg? He buzzed again. "Greg! Sound off if you can hear me. "

More silence. Then a click. "Tom?"

"Here. Are you all right?"

"So far. You?"

"They got past me, but they didn't hit me. How's Johnny?"

"I don't know, " Greg said. "I think he's been hurt. Tom, you'd betterget off, they'll have snoopers. .. . "

"All right, listen, " Tom said. "How does it look to you?"

"Bad. We're outnumbered, they'll be through to here any minute. "

"All right, I've got an idea. It's risky, but it might let us pullsomething out of this mess. I'll need some time, though. "

"How much?"

"Ten, fifteen minutes. "

There was an edge to Greg's voice. "What are you planning?"

"I can't tell you, they're listening in. But if it works. .. . "

"Look, don't do anything stupid. "

"I can't hear you, " Tom said. "You try to hold them for fifteenminutes . .. And don't worry. Take care of yourself. "

Tom snapped off the speaker and moved to the hatchway. The corridor wasempty, and pitch black. He started down toward the airlock, then stoppedshort at the sound of voices and the flicker of headlamps up ahead. 

He crouched back, but the lights were not moving. Guards at the lock, making certain that nobody tried to board their own ship. Tom grinned tohimself. They weren't missing any bets, he thought. 

Except one. There was one bet they wouldn't even think of. 

He backtracked to the storage hold, crossed through it, and out into thefar corridor. He followed the gentle curve of the deck a quarter of theway around the ship. Twice along the way he stumbled in the darkness, but saw no sign of the raiders. At last he reached the far side, and thecorridor leading to No. 2 airlock. Again he could see the lamps of theguards around the bend; they were stationed directly inside their ownlock. 

Inching forward, he peered into blackness. Each step made a muffledclang on the deck plates. He edged his boots along as quietly aspossible, reaching along the wall with his hand until he felt the lip ofa hatchway. 

The lights and voices seemed nearer now. In the dim reflected light hesaw the sign on the door of the hatchway:

 No. 2 Airlock BE SURE PRESSURE GAUGE IS AT ZERO BEFORE OPENING HATCH

He checked the gauge, silently spun the wheel. There was a _ping_ as theseals broke. He pulled the hatch open just enough to squeeze into thelock, then closed it behind him. Then he switched on the pumps, waitingimpatiently until the red "all clear" signal flashed on. Then he openedthe outside lock. 

Just beyond, he could see the sleek silvery lines of the _Scavenger_. 

It was their only chance. 

He took a deep breath, and jumped across the gap to the open lock of the_Scavenger_. 

6. The Last Run of the Scavenger

To Greg Hunter the siege of the orbit-ship had been a nerve-wrackinggame of listening and waiting for something to happen. 

In the darkness of the control cabin he stretched his fingers, crampedfrom gripping the heavy Markheim stunner, and checked the corridoroutside again. There was no sound in the darkness there, no sign ofmovement. Somewhere far below he heard metal banging on metal; minutesbefore he thought he had heard the sharp ripping sound of a stunnerblast overhead, but he wasn't sure. Wherever the fighting was going on, it was not here. 

He shook his head as his uneasiness mounted. Why hadn't Johnny comeback? He'd gone off to try and disable the Ranger ship leaving Greg toguard the control cabin. Why no sign of the marauders in the controlcabin corridor? This should have been the first place they would headfor, if they planned to take the ship, but there had been nothing butsilence and darkness. Johnny had been gone near 15 minutes already. Gregbecame more uneasy. 

He waited. Suddenly, bitterly, he realized the hopelessness of it. Evenif Johnny did manage to damage the Ranger ship, what difference would itmake? They had been fools to come out here, idiots to ignore Tawney'swarning, the three of them. Tawney had told them in so many words thatthere would be trouble, and they had come out anyway, just begging forit. 

Well, now they had what they'd begged for. Greg slammed his fist intohis palm angrily. What had they expected? That the big company wouldstep humbly aside for them, with a fortune hanging in the balance? Ifthey had even begun to think it through before they started. .. . 

But they hadn't, and now it was too late. They were under attack; Johnnywas off on a fool's errand, gone too long for comfort, and Tom . .. Gregglanced at his watch. It had been ten minutes since Tom's call. What hadhe meant by it? A plan, he said. A long chance. 

He couldn't shake off the cold feeling in his chest when he thoughtabout Tom. What if something happened to him. .. . 

Greg remembered how he had grown to resent his brother. The time whenthey were very young and Tom had been struck by the sickness, a nativeMartian virus they called it. He remembered the endless nights ofattention given to Tom alone. From then on somehow they weren't friendsany more. But now all that seemed to disappear and Greg only wished thatTom would appear down the corridor. .. . 

A sound startled him. He tensed, gripping the stunner, peering into thedarkness. Had he heard something? Or was it his own foot scraping onthe deck plate? He held his breath, listening, and the sound cameagain, louder. 

Someone was moving stealthily up the corridor. 

Greg waited, covered by the edge of the hatchway. It might be Johnnyreturning, or maybe even Tom . .. But there was no sign of recognition. Whoever it was was coming silently. .. . 

Then a beam of light flared from a headlamp, and he saw the blue crackleof a stunner. He jerked back as the beam bounced off the metal walls. Then he was firing point blank down the corridor, his stunner on a tightbeam, a deadly pencil of violent energy. He heard a muffled scream and abulk loomed up in front of him, crashed to the deck at his feet. 

He fired again. Another crash, a shout, and then the sound of footstepsretreating. He waited, his heart pounding, but there was nothing more. 

The first attempt on the control cabin had failed. 

 * * * * *

Five minutes later the second attempt began. This time there was nowarning sound. A sudden, ear-splitting crash, a groan of tortured metal, and the barricaded hatchway glowed dull red. Another crash followed. Theedge of the hatch split open, pouring acrid Murexide fumes into thecabin. A third explosion breached the door six inches; Greg could seeheadlamps in the corridor beyond. 

He fired through the crack, pressing down the stud until the stunnerscorched his hand. Then he heard boots clanging up the other corridor. He pressed back against the wall, waited until the sounds were near, then threw open the hatch. For an instant he made a perfect target, butthe raiders did not fire. The stunner buzzed in his hand, and once againthe footfalls retreated. 

They _were_ being careful!

Silence then, and blackness. Minutes passed . .. Five, ten. .. . Gregchecked the time again. It was over twenty minutes since Tom had talkedto him. What had happened? Whatever Tom had planned must have misfired, or something would have happened by now. For a moment he consideredleaving his post and starting down the dark corridor to search . .. Butwhere to search? There was nothing to do but wait and hope for amiracle. 

Then suddenly the lights blazed on in the control cabin and the corridoroutside. An attention signal buzzed in Greg's earphones. "All right, Hunter, it's all over, " a voice grated. "You've got five minutes to getdown to No. 3 lock. If you make us come get you, you'll get hurt. "

"I'll chance it, " Greg snapped back. "Come on up. "

"We're through fooling, " the voice said. "You'd better get down here. And bring your brother with you. "

"Sure, " Greg said. "Start holding your breath. "

The contact broke for a moment, then clicked on again. This time it wasanother voice. "We've got Johnny Coombs down here, " it said. "You wanthim to stay alive, you start moving. Without your stunner. "

Greg chewed his lip. They could be bluffing . .. But they might not be. "I want to see Johnny, " he said. 

On the control panel a viewscreen flickered to life. "Take a look, then, " the voice said in his earphones. 

They had Johnny, all right. A burly guard was holding his good armbehind his back. Greg could see the speaker wires jerked loose from hishelmet. 

"It's up to you, " the voice said. "You've got three minutes. If you'renot down here by then, this helmet comes off and your friend goes outthe lock. It's quick that way, but it's not very pleasant. "

Johnny was shaking his head violently; the guard wrenched at his arm, and the miner's face twisted in pain. "Two minutes, " the voice said. 

"Okay, " Greg said. "I'm coming down. "

"Drop the stunner right there. "

He dropped the weapon onto the deck. Three steps out into the corridor, and two guards were there to meet him, stunners raised. They marched himup the ramp to the outer level corridor and around to No. 3 lock. 

They were waiting there with Johnny. A moment later the guards herdedthem through the lock and into the hold of the Ranger ship, stripped offtheir suits, and searched them. 

A big man with a heavy face and coarse black hair came into the cabin. He looked at Johnny and Greg and grunted. "You must be Hunter, " he saidto Greg. "Where's the other one?"

"What other one?" Greg said. 

"Your brother. Where is he?"

"How would I know?" Greg said. 

The man's face darkened. "You'd be smart to watch your tongue, " he said. "We know there were three of you, we want the other one. "

The man turned to a guard. "What about it?"

"Don't know, Doc. Nobody's reported him. "

"Then take a crew and search the ship. We were due back hours ago. He'sin there somewhere. "

"Sure, Doc. " The guard disappeared through the lock. The man called Docmotioned Greg and Johnny through into the main cabin. 

"What are you planning to do with us?" Greg demanded. 

"You'll find out soon enough. " Doc's mouth twisted angrily. 

A guard burst into the cabin. "Doc, there's just nobody there! We'vescoured the ship. "

"You think he just floated away in his space suit?" Doc growled. "_Findhim. _ Tawney only needs one of them, but we can't take a chance on theother one getting back. .. . " He broke off, his eyes on the viewscreen. "Did you check those scout ships?"

"No, I thought. .. . "

"Get down there and check them. " Doc turned back to the viewscreenimpatiently. 

Greg caught Johnny's eye, saw the big miner's worried frown. "Where ishe?" he whispered. 

"I don't know. Thought you did. .. . "

"All I know is that he had some kind of scheme in mind. "

"Shut up, " Doc said to them. "If you're smart, you'll be strapping downbefore we. .. . " He broke off in mid sentence, listening. 

Quite suddenly, the Ranger ship had begun to vibrate. Somewhere, faraway, there was the muffled rumble of engines. 

Doc whirled to the viewscreen. Greg and Johnny looked at the sameinstant, and Johnny groaned. 

Below them, the _Scavenger_'s jets were flaring. First the pale starterflame, then a long stream of fire, growing longer as the enginesdeveloped thrust. 

Doc slammed down a switch, roared into a speaker. "That scoutship . .. Stop it! He's trying to make a break!"

Two guards appeared at the lock almost instantly, but it was too late. Already she was straining at her magnetic cable moorings; then theexhaust flared, and the little scout ship leaped away from theorbit-ship, moving out at a tangent to the asteroid's orbit, picking upspeed, moving faster and faster. .. . 

In toward the orbit of Mars. 

The man called Doc had gone pale. Now he snapped on the speaker again. "Frank? Stand by on missile control. He's asking for it. "

"Right, " the voice came back. "I'm sighting in. "

The _Scavenger_ was moving fast now, dwindling in the viewscreen. Onepanel of the screen went telescopic to track her. "All right, " Doc said. "Fire one and two. "

From both sides of the Ranger, tiny rockets flared. Like twin bulletsthe homing shells moved out, side by side, in the track of the escaping_Scavenger_. With a strangled cry, Greg leaped forward, but Johnnycaught his arm. 

"Johnny, _Tom's on . .. That thing_. .. . "

"I know. But he's got a chance. "

Already the homing shells were out of sight; only the twin flares werevisible. Greg stared helplessly at the tiny light-spot of the_Scavenger_. At first she had been moving straight, but now she wasdodging and twisting, her side-jets flaring at irregular intervals. Thetwin pursuit shells mimicked each change in course, drawing closer toher every second. 

And then there was a flash, so brilliant it nearly blinded them, and the_Scavenger_ burst apart in space. The second shell struck a fragment;there was another flash. Then there was nothing but a nebulous powderingof tiny metal fragments. 

The last run of the _Scavenger_ had ended. 

Dazed, Greg turned away from the screen, and somewhere, as if in adream, he heard Doc saying, "All right, boys, strap this pair down. We've got a lot of work to do before we can get out of here. "

7. Prisoners

Wherever they were planning to take them, the captors took great painsto make sure that their two prisoners did not escape before they wereunderway. Greg and Johnny were strapped down securely into accellerationcots. Two burly guards were assigned to them, and the guards were takingtheir job seriously. One of the two was watching them at all times, andboth men held their stunners on ready. 

Meanwhile, under Doc's orders, the crew of the Jupiter Equilateral shipbegan a systematic looting of the orbit-ship they had disabled. Earlierthey had merely searched the cabins and compartments. Now a steadystream of pressure-suited men crossed through the airlocks into thecrippled vessel, marched back with packing cases full of tape records, microfilm spools, stored computer data . .. Anything that mightconceivably contain information. The control cabin was literally tornapart. Every storage hold was ransacked. 

A team of six men was dispatched to the asteroid surface, searching forany sign of mining or prospecting activity. They came back an hourlater, long-faced and empty handed. Doc took their reports, his scowlgrowing deeper and deeper. 

Finally the last of the searchers reported in. "Doc, we'd scraped itclean, and there's nothing there. Not one thing that we didn't checkbefore. "

"There's _got_ to be something there, " Doc said. 

"You tell me where else to look, and I'll do it. "

Doc shook his head ominously. "Tawney's not going to like it, " he said. "There's no other place it could be. .. . "

"Well, at least we have this pair, " the other said, jerking a thumb atGreg and Johnny. "They'll know. "

Doc looked at them darkly. "Yes, and they'll tell, too, or I don't knowTawney. "

Greg watched it all happening, heard the noises, saw the packing-casescome through the cabin, and still he could not quite believe it. Hecaught Johnny's eye, then turned away, suddenly sick. Johnny shook hishead. "Take it easy, boy. "

"He didn't even have a chance, " Greg said. 

"I know that. He must have known it too. "

"But why? What was he thinking of?"

"Maybe he thought he could make it. Maybe he thought it was the onlychance. .. . "

There was no other answer that Greg could see, and the ache in his chestwas deeper. 

There was no way to bring Tom back now. However things had been betweenthem, they could never be changed now. But he knew that as long as hewas still breathing, somebody somehow was going to answer for that lastdesperate run of the _Scavenger_. .. . 

 * * * * *

It had been an excellent idea, Tom Hunter thought to himself, and it hadworked perfectly, exactly as he had planned it . .. So far. But now, ashe clung to his precarious perch, he wondered if it had not worked out alittle too well. The first flush of excitement that he had felt when hesaw the _Scavenger_ blow apart in space had begun to die down now; onits heels came the unpleasant truth, the realization that only the easypart lay behind him so far. The hard part was yet to come, and if thatwere to fail. .. . 

He realized, suddenly, that he was afraid. He was well enough concealedat the moment, clinging tightly against the outside hull of the Rangership, hidden behind the open airlock door. But soon the airlock would bepulled closed, and then the real test would come. 

Carefully, he ran through the plan again in his mind. He was certain nowthat his reasoning was right. There had been two dozen men on the raidership; there had been no question, even from the start, that they wouldsucceed in boarding the orbit-ship and taking its occupants prisoners. The Jupiter Equilateral ship had not appeared there by coincidence. Theyhad come looking for something that they had not found. 

And the only source of information left was Roger Hunter's sons. Thethree of them together might have held the ship for hours, or evendays . .. But with engines and radios smashed, there had been no hopeof contacting Mars for help. Ultimately, they would have been taken. 

As he had crouched in the dark storage hold in the orbit-ship, Tom hadrealized this. He had also realized that, once captured, they wouldnever have been freed and allowed to return to Mars. 

If the three of them were taken, they were finished. But what if onlytwo were taken? He had pushed it aside as a foolish idea, at first. Theboarding party would never rest until they had accounted for all three. They wouldn't dare go back to their headquarters leaving one live manbehind to tell the story. .. . 

Unless they thought the third man was dead. If they were sure ofthat . .. _certain_ of it . .. They would not hesitate to take theremaining two away. And if, by chance, the third man wasn't as dead asthey thought he was, and could find a way to follow them home, theremight still be a chance to free the other two. 

It was then that he thought of the _Scavenger_, and knew that he hadfound a way. 

In the cabin of the little scout ship he had worked swiftly, fearfulthat at any minute one of the marauders might come aboard to search it. Tom was no rocket pilot, but he did know that the count-down wasautomatic, and that every ship could run on an autopilot, as a drone, following a prescribed course until it ran out of fuel. Even theshell-evasion mechanism could be set on automatic. .. . 

Quickly he set the autopilot, plotted a simple high school math coursefor the ship, a course the Ranger ship would be certain to see, and tofire upon. He set the count-down clock to give himself plenty of timefor the next step. 

Both the airlock to the _Scavenger_ and to the orbit-ship worked onelectric motors. The _Scavenger_ was grappled to the orbit-ship's hullby magnetic cables. Tom dug into the ship's repair locker, found thewires and fuses that he needed, and swiftly started to work. 

It was an ingenious device. The inner airlock door in the orbit-ship wastriggered to a fuse. He had left it ajar; the moment it was closed, byanyone intending to board the _Scavenger_, the fuse would burn, acircuit would open, and the little ship's autopilot would go on active. The ship would blast away from its moorings, head out toward Mars. .. . 

And the fireworks would begin. All that he would have to worry aboutthen would be getting himself aboard the Ranger ship without beingdetected. 

Which was almost impossible. But he knew there was a way. There was oneplace no one would think to look for him, if he could manage to keep outof range of the viewscreen lenses . .. The outer hull of the ship. If hecould clamp himself to the hull, somehow, and manage to cling thereduring blastoff, he could follow Greg and Johnny right home. 

He checked the fuse on the airlock once again to make certain it wouldwork. Then he waited, hidden behind the little scout ship's hull, until the orbit-ship swung around into shadow. He checked his suitdials . .. Oxygen for twenty-two hours, heater pack fully charged, soda-ash only half saturated . .. It would do. Above him he could see therear jets of the Ranger. He swung out onto the orbit-ship's hull, andbegan crawling up toward the enemy ship. 

It was slow going. Every pressure suit had magnetic boots and hand-padsto enable crewmen to go outside and make repairs on the hull of a shipin transit. Tom clung, and moved, and clung again, trying to reach theprotecting hull of the Ranger before the orbit-ship swung him around tothe sun-side again. .. . 

He couldn't move fast enough. He saw the line of sunlight coming aroundthe ship as it swung full into the sun. He froze, crouching motionless. If somebody on the Ranger spotted him now, it was all over. He wasexposed like a lizard on a rock. He waited, hardly daring to breathe, asthe ship spun ponderously around, carrying him into shadow again. 

And nothing happened. He started crawling upward again, reached up tograb the mooring cable, and swung himself across to the hull of theRanger. The airlock hung open; he scuttled behind it, clinging to thehull in its shadow just as Greg and Johnny were herded across by theJupiter Equilateral guards. 

Then he waited. There was no sound, no sign of life. After a while theRanger's inner lock opened, and a group of men hurried across to theorbit-ship. Probably a searching party, Tom thought. Soon the men cameback, then returned to the orbit-ship. After another minute, he felt thevibration of the _Scavenger_'s motors, and he knew that his snare hadbeen triggered. 

He saw the little ship break free and streak out in its curvingtrajectory. He saw the homing shells burst from the Ranger's tubes. The_Scavenger_ vanished from his range of vision, but moments later he sawthe sudden flare of light reflected against the hull of the orbit-ship, and he knew his plan had worked, but the ordeal lay ahead. 

And at the end of it, he might really be a dead man. 

 * * * * *

Hours later, the last group of looters left the orbit-ship, and theairlock to the Ranger clanged shut. Tom heard the sucking sound of theair-tight seals, then silence. The orbit-ship was empty, its insidesgutted, its engines no longer operable. The Ranger hung like a longsplinter of silver alongside her hull, poised and ready to move on. 

He knew that the time had come. Very soon the blastoff and theaccelleration would begin. He had a few moments to find a position ofsafety, no more. 

Quickly, he began scrambling toward the rear of the Ranger's hull, hugging the metal sides, moving sideways like a crab. Ahead, he knew, the viewscreen lenses would be active; if one of them picked him up, itwould be quite a jolt to the men inside the ship . .. But it would be theend of his free ride. 

But the major peril was the blastoff. Once the engines cut off, the shipwould be in free fall. Then he could cling easily to the hull, walk allover it if he chose to, with the aid of his boots and hand-pads. Butunless he found a way to anchor himself firmly to the hull duringblastoff, he could be flung off like a pebble. 

He heard a whirring sound, and saw the magnetic mooring cables jerk. Theship was preparing for blastoff. Automatic motors were drawing thecables and grappling plates into the hull. Moving quickly, Tom reachedthe rear cable. Here was his anchor, something to hold him tight to thehull! With one hand he loosened the web belt of his suit, looped it overa corner of the grappling plate as it pulled in to the hull. 

The plate pulled tight against the belt. Each plate fit into a shallowexcavation in the hull, fitting so tightly that the plates were all butinvisible when they were in place. Tom felt himself pulled in tightly asthe plate gripped the belt against the metal, and the whirring of themotor stopped. 

For an instant it looked like the answer. The belt was wedgedtight . .. He couldn't possibly pull loose without ripping the nylonwebbing of the belt. But a moment later the motor started whirring again. The plate pushed out from the hull a few inches, then started back, againpulling in the belt. .. . 

A good idea that just wouldn't work. The automatic machinery on aspaceship was built to perfection; nothing could be permitted tohalf-work. Tom realized what was happening. Unless the plate fitperfectly in its place, the cable motor could not shut off, andpresently an alarm signal would start flashing on the control panel. 

He pulled the belt loose, reluctantly. He would have to count on hisboots and his hand-pads alone. 

He searched the rear hull, looking for some break in the polished metalthat might serve as a toehold. To the rear the fins flared out, supported by heavy struts. He made his way back, crouching close to thehull, and straddled one of the struts. He jammed his magnetic boots downagainst the hull, and wrapped his arms around the strut with all hisstrength. 

Clinging there, he waited. 

It wasn't a good position. The metal of the strut was polished andslick, but it was better than trying to cling to the open hull. Hetensed now, not daring to relax for fear that the blastoff accellerationwould slam him when he was unprepared. 

Deep in the ship, the engines began to rumble. He felt it ratherthan heard it, a low-pitched vibration that grew stronger and stronger. The Ranger would not need a great thrust to move away from theorbit-ship . .. But if they were in a hurry, they might start out atnearly Mars-escape. .. . 

The jets flared, and something slammed him down against the fin strut. The Ranger moved out, its engines roaring, accellerating hard. Tom feltas though he had been hit by a ton of rock. The strut seemed to press inagainst his chest; he could not breathe. His hands were sliding, and hefelt the pull on his boots. He tightened his grip desperately. This wasit. He had to hang on, _had_ to hang on. .. . 

He saw his boot on the hull surface, sliding slowly, creeping back andstretching his leg, suddenly it broke loose; he lurched to one side, andthe other boot began sliding. There was a terrible ache in his arms, asthough some malignant giant were tearing at him, trying to wrench himloose as he fought for his hold. 

There was one black instant when he knew he could not hold on anothersecond. He could see the blue flame of the jet streaming behind him, thecold blackness of space beyond that. It had been a fool's idea, hethought in despair, a million-to-one shot that he had taken, andlost. .. . 

And then the pressure stopped. His boots clanged down on the hull, andhe almost lost his hand-grip. He stretched an arm, shook himself, took agreat painful breath, and then clung to the strut, almost sobbing, hardly daring to move. 

The ordeal was over. Somewhere, far ahead, an orbit-ship was waiting forthe Ranger to return. He would have to be ready for the braking thrustand the side-maneuvering thrusts, but he would manage to hold on. Crouching against the fin, he would be invisible to viewers on theorbit-ship . .. And who would be looking for a man clinging to theoutside of a scout-ship?

Tom sighed, and waited. Jupiter Equilateral would have its prisoners, all right. He wished now that he had not discarded the stunner, butthose extra pounds might have made the difference between life and deathduring the blastoff. And at least he was not completely unarmed. Hestill had Dad's revolver at his side. 

He smiled to himself. The pirates would have their prisoners, indeed . .. But they would have one factor to deal with that theyhad not counted on. 

 * * * * *

For Greg it was a bitter, lonely trip. 

After ten hours they saw the huge Jupiter Equilateral orbit-ship loomingup in the viewscreen like a minor planet. Skilfully Doc maneuvered theship into the launching rack. The guards unstrapped the prisoners, andhanded them pressure suits. 

Moments later they were in a section in crews' quarters where theystripped off their suits. This orbit-ship was much larger than RogerHunter's; the gravity was almost Mars-normal, and it was comforting justto stretch and relax their cramped muscles. 

As long as they didn't think of what was ahead. 

Finally Johnny grinned and slapped Greg's shoulder. "Cheer up, " he said. "We'll be honored guests for a while, you can bet on that. "

"For a while, " Greg said bitterly. 

Just then the hatchway opened. "Well, who do we have here?" a familiarvoice said. "Returning a call, you might say. And maybe this time you'llbe ready for a bit of bargaining. "

They turned to see the heavy face and angry eyes of Merrill Tawney. 

8. The Scavengers of Space

The casual observer might have been fooled. Tawney's guard was down onlyfor an instant; then the expression of cold fury and determination onhis face dropped away as though the shutter of a camera had clicked, andhe was all smiles and affability. They were honored guests here, onewould have thought, and this pudgy agent of the Jupiter Equilateralcombine was their genial host, anxious for their welfare, eager to doanything he could for their comfort. .. . 

They were amazed by the luxuriousness of the ship. For the next fewhours they received the best treatment, sumptuous accommodations, excellent food. 

They were finishing their second cup of coffee when Tawney asked, "Feeling better, gentlemen?"

"You do things in a big way, " Johnny said. "This is real coffee, madefrom grounds. Must have cost a fortune to ship it out here. "

Tawney spread his hands. "We keep it for special occasions. Like when wehave special visitors. "

"Even when the visits aren't voluntary, " Greg added sourly. 

"We have to be realistic, " Tawney said. "Would you have come if weinvited you? Of course not. You gentlemen chose to come out to the Beltin spite of my warnings. You thus made things very awkward for us, upsetcertain of our plans. " He looked at Greg. "We don't ordinarily allowpeople to upset our plans, but now we find that we're forced to includeyou in our plans, whether you happen to like the idea or not. "

"You're doing a lot of talking, " Greg said. "Why don't you come to thepoint?"

Tawney was no longer smiling. "We happen to know that your father strucka rich lode on one of his claims. "

"That's interesting, " Greg said. "Did Dad tell you that?"

"He didn't have to. A man can't keep a secret like that, not for verylong. Ask your friend here, if you don't believe me. And we make it ourbusiness to know what's going on out here. We have to, in order tosurvive. "

"Well, suppose you heard right. The law says that what a man finds onhis own claim is his. "

"Certainly, " Tawney said. "Nobody would think of claim-jumping, thesedays. But when a man happens to die before he can bring in his bonanza, then it's a question of who gets there first, wouldn't you think?"

"Not when the man is murdered, " Greg said hotly, "not by a long shot. "

"But you can't prove that your father was murdered. "

"If I could, I wouldn't be here. "

"Then I think we'll stick to the law, " Tawney said, "and call it anaccident. "

"And what about my brother? Was that an accident?"

"Ah, yes, your brother. " Tawney's eyes hardened. "Quite a differentmatter, that. Sometimes Doc tends to be over-zealous in carrying out hisassigned duties. I can assure you that he has been . .. Disciplined. "

"That's not going to help Tom very much. "

"Unfortunately not, " Tawney said. "Your brother made a very foolishmove, under the circumstances. But from a practical point of view, perhaps it's not entirely a tragedy. "

"What do you mean by that?"

"From what I've heard, " Tawney said, "you didn't have much use for yourtwin brother. And now you certainly won't have to share your father'slegacy. .. . "

It was too much. With a roar Greg swung at the little fat man. The blowcaught Tawney full in the jaw, jerked his head back. Greg threw hisshoulder into a hard left, slamming Tawney back against the wall. Theguard charged across the room, dragging them apart as Tawney blubberedand tried to cover his face. Greg dug his elbow into the guard'sstomach, twisted away and started for Tawney again. Then Johnny caughthis arm and spun him around. "Stop it, " he snapped. "Use your head, boy. .. . "

Greg stopped, glaring at Tawney and gasping for breath. The company manpicked himself up, rubbing his hand across his mouth. For a moment hetrembled with rage. Then he gripped the table with one hand, forciblyregaining his control. He even managed a sickly smile. "Just like yourfather, " he said, "too hot-headed for your own good. But we'll let itpass. I brought you here to make you an offer, a very generous offer, and I'll still make it. I'm a businessman, when I want something I wantI bargain for it. If I have to share a profit to get it, I share theprofit. All right . .. You know where your father's strike is. We wantit. We can't find it, so you've got us over a barrel. We're ready tobargain. "

Greg started forward. "I wouldn't bargain with you for. .. . "

"Shut up, Greg, " Johnny said. 

Greg stared at him. The big miner's voice had cracked like a whip; nowhe was drawing Merrill Tawney aside, speaking rapidly into his ear. Tawney listened, shot a venomous glance across at Greg, and finallynodded. "All right, " he said, "but I can't wait forever. .. . "

"You won't have to. "

Tawney turned to the guard. "You have your orders, " he said. "They're tohave these quarters, and the freedom of the ship, except for the outerlevel. They're not to be harmed, and they're not to be out of your sightexcept when they're locked in here. Is that clear?"

The guard nodded. Tawney looked at Johnny, and started for the door, still rubbing his jaw. "We'll talk again later, " he said, and then hewas gone. 

When the guard had left, and the lock buzzed in the door, Johnny lookedat Greg and shook his head sadly. "You just about fixed things, boy, youreally did. You've got to use your head if you want to stay alive awhile, that's all. Look, there isn't going to be any bargaining withTawney, he just doesn't work that way. It's heads he wins, tails welose. Once he has what he wants we won't last six minutes. All right, then there's just one thing that can keep us alive . .. Stalling him. We've got to make him think you'll give in if he plays his cards right. "

Greg was silent for a minute. "I hadn't thought of it that way. "

"And we've got to use the time we have to find some way to break forit. " Johnny stood up, staring around the luxurious lounge. "If you wantmy opinion, it's going to take some pretty fancy footwork to get out ofhere with our skins. "

 * * * * *

True to his word, Tawney had given them the freedom of the ship. Gregand Johnny discovered that their guard was also an excellent guide. Allday he had been leading them through the ship, chatting and answeringtheir questions about asteroid mining, until they almost forgot thatthey were really prisoners here. And the guard's obvious pride in thescope and skill of his company's mining operations was strangelyinfectious. 

Watching the Jupiter Equilateral ship in operation, Greg felt his heartsink. Here was a huge, powerful organization, with all the equipment andmen and know-how they could ever need. How could one man, or two orthree in a team, hope to compete with them? For the independent miner, the only hope was the Big Strike, the single lode that could make himrich. He might work all his life without finding it, and then stumbleupon it by sheer chance. .. . 

But if he couldn't keep it when he found it, then what? What if thegreat mining company became so strong that they could be their own lawin the Belt? What if they grew strong enough and powerful enough tochallenge the United Nations on Mars itself, and gain control of theentire mining industry? What chance would the independent miner havethen?

It was a frightening picture. Suddenly something began to make sense toGreg; he realized something about his father that he had never knownbefore. 

Roger Hunter had been a miner, yes. But he had been something else too, something far more important than just a miner. 

Roger Hunter had been a fighter, fighting to the end for something hebelieved in. .. . 

Tawney interrupted Greg's thought. 

"Quite an operation, " he said. 

Greg looked at him. "So I see. "

"And very efficient, too. Our men have everything they need to workwith. We can mine at far less cost than anyone else. "

"But you still can't stand the idea of independent miners working theBelt, " Greg said. 

Tawney's eyebrows went up. "But why not? There's lots of room out here. Our operation with Jupiter Equilateral is no different from anindependent miner's operation. We aren't different kinds of people. "Tawney smiled. "When you get right down to it, we're both exactly thesame thing . .. Scavengers in space, vultures picking over the deadremains to see what we can find. We come out to the asteroids, and webring back what we want and leave the rest behind. And it doesn't matterwhether we've got one ship working or four hundred . .. We're still justscavengers. "

"With just one difference, " Greg said, turning away from the viewscreen. 

"Difference?"

Greg nodded. "Even vultures don't kill their own, " he said. 

 * * * * *

Later, when they were alone in their quarters again, Greg and Johnnystared at each other gloomily. 

"Didn't you see _anything_ that might help us?" Greg said. 

"Not much. For an orbit-ship, this place is a fortress. I got a goodlook at that scout ship coming in . .. It was armed to the teeth. Probably they all are. And they're keeping a guard now at everyairlock. "

"So we're sewed up tight, " Greg said. 

"Looks that way. They've got us, boy, and I think Tawney's patience iswearing thin, too. We're either going to have to produce or else. "

"But what can we do?"

"Start bluffing. "

"It seems to me we're just about bluffed out. "

"I mean talk business, " Johnny said. "Tell Tawney what he wants toknow. "

"When we don't know any more than he does? How?"

Johnny Coombs scratched his jaw. "I've been thinking about that, " hesaid slowly, "and I wonder if we don't know a whole lot more than wethink we do. "

"Like what?" Greg said. 

"We've all been looking for the same thing . .. A Big Strike, a bonanzalode. Tawney's men have raked over every one of your Dad's claims, andthey haven't turned up a thing. " Johnny looked at Greg. "Makes youwonder a little, doesn't it? Your Dad was smart, but he was no magician. And how does a man go about hiding something like a vein of ore?"

"I don't know, " Greg said. "It doesn't seem possible. "

"It isn't possible, " Johnny said flatly. "There's only one possibleexplanation, and we've been missing it all along. Whatever he found, _itwasn't an ore strike_. It was something else, something far differentfrom anything we've been thinking of. "

Greg stared at him. "But if it wasn't an ore strike, what was it?"

"I don't know, " Johnny said. "But I'm sure of one thing . .. It wassomething important enough that he was ready to die before he'd revealit. And that means it was important enough that Tawney won't dare killus until he finds out what it was. "

9. The Invisible Man

Crouching back into the shadow, Tom Hunter waited as the heavy footstepsmoved up the corridor, then back down, then up and down again. He peeredaround the corner for a moment, looking quickly up and down the curvingcorridor. The guard was twenty yards away, moving toward him in a slowmeasured pace. Tom jerked his head back, then peered out again as thefootsteps receded. 

The guard was a big man, with a heavy-duty stunner resting in the crookof his elbow. He paused, scratched himself, and resumed his pacing. Tomwaited, hoping that something might distract the big man, but he movedstolidly back and forth, not too alert, but far too alert to riskbreaking out into the main corridor. 

Tom moved back into the darkened corridor where he was standing, tryingto decide what to do. It was a side corridor, and a blind alley; itended in a large hatchway marked HYDROPONICS, and there were nobranching corridors. If he were discovered here, there would be no placeto hide. 

But he knew that he could never hope to accomplish his purpose here. .. . 

A hatch clanged open, and there were more footsteps down the maincorridor as a change of guards hurried by. There was a rumble of voices, and Tom listened to catch the words. 

". .. Don't care what you think, the boss says tighten it up. .. . "

"But they got them locked in. .. . "

"So tell it to the boss. We're supposed to check every compartment inthe section every hour. Now get moving. .. . "

The footsteps moved up and down the corridor then, and Tom heard hatchesclanging open. If they sent a light down this spur . .. He turned to thehatch, spun the big wheel on the door, and slipped inside just as thefootsteps came closer. 

The stench inside was almost overpowering. The big, darkened room wasextremely warm, the air damp with vapor. The plastic-coated wallsstreamed with moisture. Against the walls Tom could see the greathydroponic vats that held the yeast and algae cultures that fed the crewof the ship. Water was splashing in one of the vats, and there was agurgling sound as nutrient broth drained out, to be replaced withfresh. 

He moved swiftly across the compartment, into a darkened area behind therows of vats, and crouched down. He heard footsteps, and the ring ofmetal as the hatchway came open. One of the guards walked in, peeredinto the gloom, wrinkled his nose, and walked out again, closing thehatchway behind him. 

It would do for a while . .. If he didn't suffocate . .. But if this shipwas organized like smaller ones, it would be a blind alley. Modernhydroponic tanks did not require much servicing, once the cultures weregrowing; the broth was drained automatically and sluiced through aseries of pipes to the rendering plant where the yeasts could beflavored and pressed into surrogate steaks and other items for spaceshipcuisine. There would be no other entrances, no way to leave except theway he had come in. 

And with the guards on duty, that was out of the question. He waited, listening, as the check-down continued in nearby compartments. Thensilence fell again. The heavy yeast aroma had grown more and moreoppressive; now suddenly a fan went on with a whir, and a cool draft offreshened reprocessed air poured down from the ventilator shaft abovehis head. 

Getting into the orbit-ship had been easier than he had hoped. In theexcitement as the new prisoners were brought aboard, security measureshad been lax. No one had expected a third visitor; in consequence, noone looked for one. Huge as it was, the Jupiter Equilateral ship hadnever been planned as a prison, and it had taken time to stake out theguards in a security system that was at all effective. In addition, every man who served as a guard had been taken from duty somewhere elseon the ship. 

So there had been no guard at the airlock in the first few moments afterthe prisoners were taken off the Ranger ship. Tom had waited until theship was moored, clinging to the fin strut. He watched Greg and Johnnytaken through the lock, and soon the last of the crew had crossed overafter securing the ship. Presently the orbit-ship airlock had gone dark, and only then had he ventured from his place of concealment, creepingalong the dark hull of the Ranger ship and leaping across to theairlock. 

A momentary risk, then, as he opened the lock. In the control room, heknew, a signal light would blink on a panel as the lock was opened. Tommoved as quickly as he could, hoping that in the excitement of the newvisitors, the signal would go unnoticed . .. Or if spotted, that thespotter would assume it was only a crewman making a final trip across tothe Ranger ship. 

But once inside, he began to realize the magnitude of his problem. Thiswas not a tiny independent orbit-ship with a few corridors andcompartments. This was a huge ship, a vast complex of corridors andcompartments and holds. There was probably a crew of a thousand men onthis ship . .. And there was no sign where Greg and Johnny might havebeen taken. 

He moved forward, trying to keep to side corridors and darkened areas. In the airlock he had wrapped up his pressure suit and stored it on arack; no one would notice it there, and it might be handy later. He hadstrapped his father's gun case to his side, some comfort, but a smallone. 

Now, crouching behind the yeast vat, he lifted out the gun, hefted itidly in his hand. It was a weapon, at least. He was not well acquaintedwith guns, and in the shadowy light it seemed to him that this onelooked odd for a revolver; it even felt wrong, out of balance in hishand. He slipped it back in the case. After all, it had been fitted toDad's hand, not his. And Johnny or Greg would know how to use it betterthan he would. 

If he could find them. But to do that, he would have to search the ship. He would have to move about, he couldn't just wait in a storage hold. And with all the guards that were posted, he would certainly stumbleinto one of them sooner or later if he tried leaving this spot. .. . 

He shook his head, and started for the hatch. He would have to chanceit. There was no way to tell how much time he had, but it was a sure betthat he didn't have very long. 

In the spur corridor again, he waited until the guard's footsteps weremuffled and distant. Then he darted out into the main corridor, movingswiftly and silently away from the guard. At the first hatchway heducked inside, waited in the darkness, panting. .. . 

The guard had stopped walking. Then his footsteps resumed, but morequickly, coming down the corridor. He stopped, almost outside thehatchway door. "Funny, " Tom heard him mutter. "I'd have sworn. .. . "

Tom held his breath, waiting. This was a storage hold, but he didn'tdare to move, even to take cover. The guard stood motionless for amoment, then grunted, and resumed his slow pacing. 

When he had moved away Tom caught his breath in huge gasps, his heartbeating in his throat. It was no use, he thought in despair. Once ortwice he might get away with it, but sooner or later a guard would bealert enough to investigate an obscure noise, a flicker of movement inthe corner of his eye. .. . 

There had to be another way. His eye probed the storage hold, hopelessly, and then stopped on a metal grill in the wall. 

For a moment, he didn't recognize what it was. Then there was a_whoosh-whoosh-whoosh_ as a fan went on, and he felt cool air againsthis cheek. He held out his hand to the grill, found the air coming fromthere. 

A ventilation shaft. Every space craft had to have reconditioning unitsfor the air inside the ship; the men inside needed a constant supply offresh oxygen, but even more, without pumps to move the air in eachcompartment they would soon suffocate from the accumulation of carbondioxide in the air they breathed out, or bake from the heat their bodiesradiated. On the other hand, the yeasts and algae required carbondioxide and yielded copious amounts of oxygen as they grew. 

In Roger Hunter's little orbit-ship the ventilation shafts were small, aloose network of foot-square ducts leading from the central pumps andair-reconditioning units to every compartment in the ship. But in a shipof this size. .. . 

The grill was over a yard wide, four feet tall. It started aboutshoulder height and ran up to the overhead. The ducts would network theship, opening into every compartment, and no one would ever open themunless something went wrong. 

And then he was laughing out loud, working the grill out of the slotsthat held it to the wall, trying to make his hands work in hisexcitement. 

He knew he had found his answer. 

The grill came loose, lifted down in a piece. He stopped short asfootsteps approached in the corridor, paused, and went on. Then hepeered into the black gaping hole behind the grill. It was big enoughfor a man to crawl in. He shinned up into the hole, and pulled the grillback into its slot behind him. 

Somewhere far away he heard a throbbing of giant pumps. There was a rushof cool fresh air past his cheek, cold when it contacted the sweatpouring down his forehead. He could not quite stand up, but there wasplenty of room for him to crouch and move. 

Ahead of him was a black tunnel, broken only by a patch of light comingthrough the grill that opened into the next compartment. He started intothe blackness, his heart racing. 

Somewhere in the ship Johnny Coombs and Greg Hunter wereprisoners . .. But now, Tom knew, there was a way to escape. 

 * * * * *

It was a completely different world, a world within a world, a world ofdarkness and silence, of a thousand curving and intersecting tunnels, some large, some small. For hours it seemed to him that he had beenwandering through a tomb, moving through the corridors of a dead ship, the lone surviving crewman. There was some contact with the other world, of course, the world of the spaceship outside . .. Each compartment hadits metal grill, and he passed many of them. But there were like doorsthat only he knew existed. He met no one in _these_ corridors, there wasno danger of sudden discovery and arrest in these dark alleys. .. . 

His boots had made too much noise as he started out, so he had slippedthem off, hanging them from his belt and moving on in his stocking feet. As he went from duct to duct, he had an almost ridiculous feeling offreedom and power. In every sense, he was an invisible man. Not one soulon this great ship knew he was here, or even suspected. He had the runof the ship, complete freedom to go wherever he chose. He could movefrom compartment to compartment as silently and invisibly as if he hadno substance at all. 

 * * * * *

He knew the first job was to learn the pattern of the ducts, andorientation was a problem. He had heard stories of men getting lost inthe deep underground mining tunnels on Mars, wandering in circles fordays until their food gave out and they starved. And there was thathazard here, for every duct looked like every other one. 

But there was a difference here, because the ducts curved just as themain ship's corridors did. He could always identify the center of theship by the force of false gravity pulling the other way. Furthermore, as the ducts drew closer to the pumps and reconditioning units, theyopened into larger vents, and the noise of the pumps thundered in hisears. After an hour of exploration, Tom was certain that from any placein the ship he could at least find his way to the outer layer, and fromthere to one of the scout-ship airlocks. 

Finding Greg and Johnny was quite a different matter. 

He could not see enough through the compartment grills to identify justwhat the compartments were; he was forced to rely on what he could hear. The engine rooms were easily identified. In one area he heard thebanging of pots and pans, the steaming of kettles . .. Obviously thegalley. He found the control area. He could hear the clatter of typinginstruments, the _click-click-click_ of the computers working out theorbits and trajectories for the scout-ships as they moved out from theorbit-ship or came back in. In another compartment he heard a dispatcherchattering his own special code-language into a microphone in alow-pitched voice. He passed another grill, and then stopped short as afamiliar voice drifted through. 

Merrill Tawney's voice. 

Tom hugged the grill, straining to catch the words. The company mansounded angry; the man he was talking to sounded even angrier. "I can'thelp what you want or don't want, Merrill, I can only report what we'vefound, and that's nothing at all. Every one of those claims has beensearched twice over. Doc and his boys went over them, and we didn't findanything they missed. I think you're barking up the wrong tree. "

"There's _got_ to be something, " Tawney said, his voice tight withanger. "Hunter couldn't have taken anything away from there, he didn'thave a chance to. You read the reports. .. "

"I know, " the other said wearily, "I know what the reports said. "

"Then what he found is still there. There's no other possibility, "Tawney said. 

"We went over that rock with a microscope. We blew it to shreds. Assayhas gone through the fragments literally piece by piece. They found lowgrade iron, a trace of nickel, a little tin, and lots of granite. If wenever found anything richer than that, we'd have been out of businessten years ago. "

There was a long silence. Tom pressed closer to the grill. Then he heardTawney slam his fist into his palm. "You know what Roger Hunter's doing, don't you?" he said. "He's making fools of us, that's what! The man'sdead, and he's making us look like idiots. If we hadn't been so sure wehad the lode spotted . .. " He broke off. "Well, that's done, we can'tundo it. But this brat of his. .. . "

"Any luck there?"

"Not a word. He's playing coy. "

"Maybe he doesn't know anything. Doc made a bad mistake when he blastedthe other one . .. Suppose _he_ was the only one that knew. "

"All right, it was a mistake, " Tawney snapped. "What was he supposed todo, let him get back to Mars? We've got a good front there, but it's notthat good. If the United Nations gets a toehold out here, the whole Beltwill go into their pocket, you realize that. They're waiting for us tomake one slip. " He paused, and Tom heard him pacing the compartment. "But I think we've got our boy. This one knows. We've been spoiling himso far, that's all. Well, now we start digging. When I get through withhim, he'll be begging us to let him tell. You just watch me, as soon asthe okay comes through. .. . "

Tom drew back from the grill, moving on in the darkness. So far he hadnot rushed his exploration . .. There was a chance to use the ducts forescape, he wanted to know them well. But now he knew the hour wasgetting late. So far Greg and Johnny had been stalling Tawney . .. ButTawney was getting impatient. 

He moved quickly and he thought again of what Tawney had said. Tawneywas right about one thing . .. There was no way that Dad could havehidden a Big Strike so nobody could find it. It had to be there. .. . 

And yet it wasn't. He and Greg hadn't found it. Tawney's men hadn'tfound it, either. Why not? There must be a reason. 

But he could not put his finger on it. 

Half an hour later he was seriously worried. Half the compartments inthe area were deserted, the men leaving for the cafeteria. The thoughtreminded Tom how hungry he was, and thirsty. His small emergency rationkit was empty. He toyed with the thought of sneaking into a food storagecompartment, then thrust it out of his mind as too risky. He had to findGreg and Johnny before anything. 

He passed a grill, and heard a murmur of voices; something in the deepbass rumble caught his ear, and he stopped, listened. 

The voices stopped also. 

He waited for them to begin, pressing against the grill. Johnny Coombswas not the only man with a deep bass voice, he might have beenmistaken. He listened, but there was no sound. He heard the whir of afan begin, still no sound, not even footsteps. 

And then it happened, so fast he was taken completely off guard. Thegrill suddenly gave way, pitching him forward into the compartment. Something struck him behind the ear as he fell; there was a grunt, asharp command, and he was pinned to the floor in the semi-darkness ofthe compartment. 

Then he heard a gasp, and he opened his eyes. He was staring into hisbrother's startled face. Greg was pinning his shoulders to the carpeteddeck, and behind him Johnny Coombs had a fist raised. .. . 

But they had stopped in mid-air, like a tableau of puppets. Greg gaped, his jaw falling open, and Tom heard himself saying, "What are you tryingto do, kill a guy? Seems to me one time is enough. "

He had found them. 

10. The Trigger

In the first instance of astonishment they were speechless. Later, Tomsaid it was the first time in his life that he had ever seen Gregtotally without words; his brother jumped back, as if he had seen aghost, and his mouth worked, but no sounds came out. 

"Don't worry, it's me all right, " Tom said, "and I'm mighty hungry. "

Greg and Johnny stared at the black hole behind the grill . .. And thenGreg was pumelling him, pounding him on the back, so excited he couldn'tget a sentence out, and Johnny was hovering over them, incredulous butforced to believe his eyes, like a father overwhelmed by the impossiblebehavior of a pair of unpredictable children. It was a jubilant reunion. They broke open the cabinets and refrigerator in the back of the loungeand pulled out surro-ham and rolls, while Johnny got some coffee going. Tom was so famished he could hardly wait to make sandwiches of the ham. He ate it as fast as he got it. 

But finally he slowed up, got his mouth empty enough to talk. "Allright, let's have the story, " Greg said, still looking as though hecouldn't believe his eyes. "The last we saw, you were blown into atomsout there in that _Scavenger_ . .. You've got some nerve turning up nowand scaring us half out of our skins. .. . "

"You want me to go back in my hole?"

"Just sit still and talk!"

Tom told them, then, starting from the beginning. 

Through it all Greg stared in admiration. "We've got a genius among us, that's all, " he said finally. "And I always thought you were the timidone. .. . "

"But what else could I do?" Tom said. "You know what they say aboutgrabbing a tiger by the tail . .. Once you get hold, you've got to holdon. "

"Okay, " Greg said, "but the next time I make a crack about your retiringnature, remind me to stick my foot in my mouth. "

"I'll do it for him, " Johnny Coombs rumbled. 

Tom nodded toward the open grill. "The only thing I don't see is how youknew I was back there. "

Johnny grinned. "We were busy taking down the grill when you camealong. We'd found three microphones in this place, and figured theymight have one behind the grill. And then we heard somebody breathingback there . .. We thought they'd posted a guard back there, just to snoopus. "

"Well, I'm glad you didn't hit him any harder. .. . "

Johnny started to say something, then stopped, cocked his head towardthe door. There were footsteps in the corridor outside; they camecloser, stopped by the door. "Quick, " Johnny hissed, "back inside!"

There was no time to look for other concealment. Tom leaped across theroom, jumped up into the shaft again, and Greg slammed the grate up intoplace just as the hatchway door swung open. 

Merrill Tawney walked into the room, with two burly guards behind him. 

 * * * * *

For the first few seconds, Greg was certain that they were lost. Hestood with his back to the ventilator grill, frozen in his tracks as thefat little company man came in the room. He tried to keep his faceblank, but he knew he wasn't succeeding. He saw the puzzled frown formon Tawney's face. 

The company man motioned the guards into the room, peered suspiciouslyat Greg and Johnny. "Am I interrupting something, by any chance?"

"Nothing at all, " Johnny blurted. "We were just talking. "

"Talking. " Tawney repeated the word as if it were some strange languagehe didn't quite understand. He looked at the guard. "Let's just checkthem. "

While one guard patted down their clothes, the other withdrew a stunner, held it on ready. Tawney prowled the lounge. He glanced at the food onthe table, then reached under the chair cushion and withdrew thedisconnected microphone, looked at the loose wires, and tossed it aside. 

"They're clean, " the guard said. 

Tawney's face was a study of uneasiness, but he clearly could notpinpoint what the trouble was. Finally he shrugged, turned on the smileagain, although his eyes remained watchful. "Well, maybe you won't mindif I join in the talking for a while, " he said. "You've beencomfortable? No complaints?"

"No complaints, " Greg said. 

"Then I presume we're ready to talk business. " He looked at Greg. 

"You said you were ready to bargain, " Greg said, "but I haven't heardany terms yet. "

"Terms? Very simple. You direct us to the lode, we give you half ofeverything we realize from it, " Tawney said, smiling. 

"You mean you'll write us a contract? With a U. N. Witness to it?"

"Well, hardly . .. Under the circumstances. I'm afraid you'll have totake our word. "

Greg looked at the company man, and shook his head. "Not that I don'ttrust you, " he said, "but I'm afraid I can't give you what you want, "Greg said. 

"Why not?"

"Because I don't know where Dad made his strike. "

The company man's face darkened. "Somebody knows where it is. Yourfather would never have found something like that without telling hisown sons. .. . "

"Sorry, " Greg said. "Of course, I can tell you where you can find out, if you want to go look. "

"We've already searched his records. .. . "

"_Some_ of his records, " Greg said. "Not all of them. There was acompartment behind the main control panel in Dad's orbit-ship. Dad usedit to store deeds, claims, other important papers. There was a packet ofnotes in there before your men fired on the ship. But of course, maybeyou searched more thoroughly, the second time. "

Tawney stared at him for a moment, then at Johnny. Johnny Coombsshrugged his shoulders solemnly, and shook his head. Without a word, thelittle company man walked to the intercom speaker on the wall. He spokesharply into it, waited, then had a brief, pungent conversation withsomeone. Then he turned back to Greg, his face heavy with suspicion. "You saw these papers?"

"Certainly I saw them. I didn't have time to read them through, but whatelse could they be?"

"Let me warn you, " Tawney said coldly, "if I send a crew out there on awild goose chase, the party will be over when they get back, do youunderstand? You've been given every consideration. If this is a fool'serrand, you'll pay for it very dearly. " He turned on his heel, snarledat one of the guards. "I want them watched every minute, " he said. "Oneof you stay with them constantly. It won't take long to find out if thisis a stall. .. . "

He stalked out, and the hatchway clanged behind him. One guard wentalong; the big one with the stunner stayed behind, eyeing his prisonersunpleasantly. The stunner was in his hand, the safety off. 

Johnny Coombs started across the room toward the kitchennette, passingclose to the guard. Suddenly he turned, swung his fist heavily down onthe guard's neck. The stunner crackled, but Greg had jumped aside. Another blow from Johnny's fist sent the gun flying. Another blow, andthe guard's legs slid out from under him. He fell unconscious to thefloor. 

In an instant they were across the room, lifting down the grill, helpingTom out of his hiding place. "Okay, boy, " Johnny said to Greg, "I guessyou pulled the trigger with that story of yours. "

"Not me, " Greg said. "Tom did. He's the one that showed us the wayout . .. The same way he came in. "

 * * * * *

The guard was out for a while, they made sure of that first. Then therewas a hasty consultation. "The airlocks are guarded, " Johnny said, "andif they tumble to the ventilator shafts, they can smoke us out in notime. How are we going to get a scout-ship without showing ourselves?For that matter, how are we going to get a scout-ship away from herewithout being blown up the way the _Scavenger_ was blown up?"

"I think I know a way, " Tom said. "We have to have something to keep alot of the crew busy. If we could get to the ship's generators and putthem out of commission somehow, it might do it. "

"Why?" Greg wanted to know. 

"Because of the air supply, " Tom said. "Without the generators, the fanswon't run. They'll have to get a crew to fix them or they'll suffocate. "

"But that would only take a few men, " Johnny said. "As soon asthe generators went out, they'd look for us, and if we weremissing . .. Well, they'd have the whole crew beating the bushes for us. It wouldn't be long before somebody thought of the ventilators. "

"But we've got to do something, and do it fast, " Tom said. 

"I know. " Johnny chewed his lip. "It's a good idea, but we need morethan just the generators. We've got to disable the ship . .. Throw somany things at them so fast from so many different directions that theydon't know which way to turn. That means we'd need to split up, and we'dneed weapons. " He hefted the guard's Markheim. "One stunner betweenthree of us isn't enough. "

"Well, we have this. " Tom unbuckled Roger Hunter's gun case from hisbelt. "Dad's revolver. It's not a stunner, but it might help. " He tossedthe case to Johnny. "I can give you both a rundown on how the shafts go. We could plan to meet at a certain spot in a certain length of time. .. . "

He broke off, looking at Johnny. The big miner had taken Roger Hunter'sgun from the case, and hefted it in his hand, started to check itautomatically as Tom talked. But now his hand froze as he stared at theweapon. 

"What's wrong?" Tom asked. 

"This gun is wrong, " Johnny said. "All wrong. Where did you get thisthing?"

"From Dad's spacer pack, the one the Patrol brought back. The Major gaveit to us in Sun Lake City. " Tom peered at the gun. "Is it broken orsomething? It's just Dad's revolver. .. . "

"It is, eh?" Johnny turned the gun over in his hand. "Whoever told youabout guns?"

"What's wrong with it?"

There was an odd expression on Johnny's face as he handed the weaponback to Tom. "Take a look at it, " he said. "Tell me whether it's loadedor not. "

Tom looked at it. Except for a few hours on the firing range, he had hadno experience with guns; he couldn't have taken down a Markheim andreassembled it if his life depended on it. But he had seen his fathertake the old revolver out of the leather case many times before. 

Now Tom could see that this was not the same gun. 

The thing in his hand was large and awkward. The hand-grips didn't fit;there was no trigger guard, and no trigger. Several inches along thegleaming metal barrel was a shiny stud, and below it a dial with notcheson it. 

"That's funny, " Tom said. "I've never seen this thing before. "

Greg took it from him, balanced it in his hand. "Doesn't feel right, " hesaid. "All out of balance. "

"Look at the barrel, " Johnny said quietly. 

Greg looked. There was no hole in the end of the barrel. "This thing'scrazy, " he said. 

"And then some, " Johnny said. "You haven't had this out of the casesince you took it from the pack?"

"Just once, " said Tom. "And I put it right back. I hardly looked at it. Look, maybe it's just a new model Dad got. "

"It's no new model. I'm not even sure it's a gun, " Johnny said. "Doesn't_feel_ like a gun. "

"What happens when you push the stud here?" Greg asked. 

Johnny licked his lips nervously. "Try it, " he said. 

Greg leveled the thing at the rear wall of the lounge and pressed thestud. There was a sharp buzzing sound, and a blinding flash of bluelight against the wall. It looked for all the world like the flash of alive power line shorting out. They squinted at the flash, rubbed theireyes. .. . 

And stared at the wall. Or at what was left of the wall, because most ofthe wall was gone. The metal had bellied out in a six-foot hole into thestorage hold beyond. .. . 

Johnny Coombs whistled. "This thing did _that_?" he whispered. 

"It must have. .. . "

"But there's no gun ever made that could do that. " He walked over to thehole in the wall. "That's half-inch steel plate. There's no way to packthat kind of energy into a hand gun. "

They stared at the innocent-looking weapon in Greg's hand. "Whatever itis, Dad must have put it in the gun-case. "

"Yes, he must have, " Johnny said. 

"Well, don't you see what that means? _Dad must have found itsomewhere_. Somewhere out here in the Belt . .. A gun that no man couldhave made. .. . "

He took the weapon, ran his finger along the gleaming barrel. "Iwonder, " he said, "what else Dad might have found out there. "

 * * * * *

Somewhere below them they heard a hatch clang shut, and even deeper inthe ship generator motors began throbbing in a steady even rhythm. Inthe silence of the lounge they could hear their own breathing, andoutside a thousand tiny sounds of the ship's activity were audible. 

But now they had attention only for the odd-shaped piece of metal inGreg's hand, and for the hole that gaped in the wall. 

"You think that _this_ was what Dad found?" Greg said. "The Big Strikehe told Johnny about?"

"It must be part of it, " Tom said. 

"But what is it? And where did it come from? It doesn't make sense, "Greg protested. 

"It doesn't make sense the way we've been looking at it, " Tom said. "Allwe've found was some gobbledegook in Dad's private log to tell us whathe found . .. But it couldn't have been a vein of ore, or Tawney's menwould have unearthed it. It had to be something else. Something that wasso big and important that Dad didn't even dare let Johnny in on it. "

"Yes, that's been the craziest part of it, to me, " Johnny said. "I'vedone a lot of mining with your Dad. If he'd hit rich ore, he would havetaken me out there to mine it with him. But he didn't. He said it wassomething he had to work on alone for a while, and he sent me back. "

"As if he'd found something that scared him, " Tom said, "or somethingthat he didn't understand. He was _afraid_ to tell anybody. And whateverhe found, he managed to hide it somewhere, so that nobody would findit. .. . "

"Then why didn't he hide this part of it, too?" Greg said. 

"Maybe to be sure there was some trace left, if anything happened tohim, " Tom said. 

They were silent for a moment. The only sound was the stertorousbreathing of the unconscious guard. "Well, " Greg said finally, "I haveto admit it makes sense. It makes other things add up better, too. Dadwas no fool, he must have known that Tawney was onto something. And Dadwould never have risked his life for an ore strike. He'd either havemade a deal with Tawney or let him hijack the lode, if that was allthere was to it. But there's still one big question . .. Where did hehide what he found? And we aren't going to find the answer here. " Hewalked over to the hole in the wall. 

"Made quite a mess of it, didn't it?" Johnny said. 

"Looks like it. I wonder what that thing would do to a ship's generatorplant. " He turned to Johnny. "We haven't much time. With this thing, wecould tear this ship apart, leave them so confused they'll never knowwhat broke loose. And if we could get that gun back to Major Briarton, he'd have to listen to us, and get the U. N. Patrol into the search. .. . "

They had been so intent on their talking that they did not hear thefootsteps in the corridor until the door swung open. It was anotherguard, the one who had departed with Tawney. He stopped short, blinkingat his companion on the floor, and then at the gaping hole in the wall. When he saw the twins, side by side, his jaw sagged and a strangledsound came from his throat. 

Then Johnny grabbed his arm, jerked him into the lounge, and slammed thehatch shut. Greg pulled the stunner from his holster and tossed it toTom. The guard let out a roar, twisted free, and met Johnny's fist as hecame around. He sagged at the knees and slid to the floor beside theother guard. "All right, " Johnny said, "we've dealt the cards, now we'dbetter play the hand. Tom, you first. "

Tom pulled the ventilator grill down, and climbed up into the shaft. Greg followed, with Johnny at his heels, pulling the grill back up intoplace from the inside. They waited for a moment, but there was no soundfrom the lounge. 

"All right, " Johnny said breathlessly. "Let's move. "

Swiftly they started down the dark tunnel. 

11. The Haunted Ship

They did not pause, even to catch their breath, for the first twentyminutes as Tom led them swiftly and silently down through the maze ofcorridors and chutes that made up the ventilation system of the hugeship. Greg lost his bearing completely in the first twenty seconds; eachtime his brother paused at a junction of tubes, he felt a wave of panicrise up in his throat . .. Suppose they lost themselves in here! He heardJohnny's trousers flapping behind him, saw Tom's figure flit pastanother grill up ahead, and plunged doggedly on. 

It was amazingly hard to move quietly. Even in stocking feet they made asoft thud with each footfall. 

But there was no sign of detection, no sound of alarm. Finally they cameout into a large shaft which allowed them to stand upright, and theystopped to catch their breath. 

"Main tube to the living quarters, " Tom said when they had caught up tohim. "Joins with the lower-level tube by a series of chutes. We'veactually been circumnavigating the ship . .. I wanted to get as far awayfrom that lounge compartment as possible, in case they check up on youright away. "

"We can't have much time, " Johnny said. "That second guard must havebeen coming to relieve the other, and when the first one doesn't reportback, they'll smell something fishy. "

 * * * * *

They talked it over for a moment. Johnny had been careful to leave thehatchway into the corridor ajar before he climbed into the ventilatorshaft, and then he had pulled the shaft snugly into place behind him. Anyone who came would find two unconscious guards, a burnt-out hole inthe wall, and the door unlocked. 

"We'll hope that he takes things at face value, and assumes we're atlarge in the ship somewhere, for a while at least, " Johnny said. "Thathole in the wall is going to set them back a couple of steps, too. "

"But they'll sound the alarm, at least, " Tom said. 

"You bet they will! They'll have every man on the crew shaking down theship for us. But they may not think of the ventilators until they can'tfind us anywhere else. "

"But sooner or later they're bound to think of it. "

"That's true, " Johnny said. "Unless they keep seeing us in the ship. Theway I figure it, this crew has been on battle stations plenty of times. They'll be able to search the whole ship in half an hour. We're justgoing to have to show ourselves . .. At least enough to keep themsearching. "

"Well, what if they do think of the ventilators?" Greg said. "They'dstill have a time finding us. "

"Maybe, but don't underestimate Tawney. He might just mask up his crewand flood the tubes with cyanide. "

They thought about that for a minute. There was no sound here but theirown breathing, and the low chug-chug-chug of the pumps somewhere deep inthe ship. Momentarily they expected to hear the raucous clang of thealarm bell, as some crew member or another walked into the lounge andfound them gone. But so far there was no sign they had been discoveredmissing. "No, " Johnny said finally, "if we just hide out in here, andhope for a chance at one of the scout ships, they'll find us eventually. But we've got three big advantages, if we can figure out how to usethem. That fancy gun, for one. A way to get around the ship, foranother . .. And the fact that there's one more of us than they count on. "He flipped on his pocket flash, began drawing lines on the dusty floor ofthe shaft. "My idea is to keep them so busy fighting little fires thatthey won't have a chance to worry about where the big one is. "

He drew a rough outline-sketch of the organization of the ship. "Thislook right to you, from what you've seen?" he asked Tom. 

"Pretty much, " Tom said. "There are more connecting tubes. "

"All the better. We want to get the generators with our little toy herefirst. That'll darken the ship, and put the blowers out of commission incase they think of using gas. Also, it will cut out their computers andmissile-launching rigs, which might give us a chance to get a scout-shipaway in one piece if we could get aboard one. "

"All right, the generators are first, " Tom said. "But then what? Thereare four hundred men on this ship. They'll have every airlock tripleguarded. They'll block us for sure. "

"Not when we get through, they won't, " Johnny grinned. "We've got an oldfriend aboard who's going to help us. "

"_Friend?_"

"Ever hear of panic?" Johnny said. "Just listen a minute. "

Quickly then, he outlined his plan. Tom and Greg listened, watchedJohnny make marks with his finger in the dust. When he finished, Gregwhistled softly. "You missed your life work, " he said. "You should havegone into crime. "

"If I'd had a ghost to help me, I might have, " Johnny said. 

"It's perfect, " Tom said, "if it works. But it all depends on onething . .. Keeping it rolling after we start. .. . "

For another five minutes they went over the details. Then Johnny clappedthem each on the shoulder. "It's up to you two, " he said. "Let's go. "

They moved down the large shaft to the place where it broke into severalspurs. Johnny started down the chute toward the engine rooms; Tom andGreg headed in opposite directions toward the main body of the ship. Just as they broke up, they heard a muffled metallic sound from thenearest compartment grill. 

It was the _clang-clang-clang_ of the orbit-ship's general alarm. 

 * * * * *

Crewmen stopped with food halfway to their mouths, jerked away fromtables. Orders buzzed along a dozen wires, and section chiefs beganreporting their battle-stations alert and ready. Finally Tawney snappedon the general public address system speaker. "Now get this, " he roared. "I want every inch of this ship searched . .. Every corridor, everycompartment. I want a special crew standing by for missile launching. I want double guards at every airlock. If they get a ship away fromhere, the man who lets them through had better be dead when I findhim. .. . " He broke off, clutching the speaker until his voice was undercontrol again. "All right, move. They're armed, but there's no place theycan go. Find them. "

A section-chief came back over the speaker. "Dead or alive, boss?"

"Alive, you idiot! At least the Hunter brat. I'll take the other one anyway you can get him. "

He switched off, and waited, pacing the control cabin like a cagedanimal. Ten minutes later a buzzer sounded. "Hydroponics, boss. Allclear. "

"No sign of them?"

"Nothing. "

Another buzz. "Number seven ore hold. Nothing here. "

Still another buzz. "Crew's quarters. Nothing, boss. "

One by one the reports came in. Fuming, Tawney checked off the sections, watched the net draw tighter throughout the ship. They were somewhere, they _had_ to be. .. . 

But nobody seemed to find them. 

He was buzzing for his first mate when the power went off. The lightswent out, the speaker went dead in his hand. The computers sighedcontentedly and stopped computing. Abruptly the emergency circuits wentinto operation, flooding the darkness with harsh white lights. Theintercom started buzzing again. 

"Engine room, boss. "

"What happened down there?" Tawney roared. 

The man sounded like he'd just run the mile. "Generators, " he panted. "Blown out. "

"Well, get somebody in there to fix them. Have a crew seal off thearea. .. . "

"Can't, boss. Fix them, I mean. "

"Why not? What have we got electricians for?"

"There's nothing left to fix. The generators aren't wrecked . .. They'redemolished. .. . "

"Then get the pair that did it. .. . "

"They're not here. We've been sealed up tight. There's no way anybodycould have gotten in here. .. . "

After that, things began to get confusing. 

 * * * * *

For a while Merrill Tawney thought that his crew was going crazy . .. Andthen he began to wonder if he were the one who was losing his mind. 

Whatever the case, Merrill Tawney was certain of one thing. The thingsthat were happening on his orbit-ship could not possibly be happening. 

A guard in one of the outer shell storage holds called in with adisquieting report. Greg Hunter, it seemed, had just been spottedvanishing into one of the storage compartments from the main outer-shellcorridor. When the guard had broken through the jammed hatchway tocollar his trapped victim, there was no sign of the victim anywherearound. 

At the same moment, a report came in from a guard on the opposite sideof the ship. He had just spotted Greg Hunter _there_, it seemed, movingdown a spur corridor. The guard had held his fire (according to Tawney'sorders) and summoned help to corner the quarry . .. But when helparrived, the quarry had vanished. 

 * * * * *

Five minutes later the Hunter boy was discovered in the Hydroponicssection, busily reducing all the yeast vats to shambles with a curiousweapon that seemed to eat holes in things. It ate the deck out fromunder the guard's feet, sending him plunging through the floor into thegalley. By the time he had scrambled back again, the Hunter boy wasgone, and a rapid move to seal off the region failed to turn him upagain. The guard was upset; Tawney was a great deal more upset, becauseat the time Greg Hunter was (reportedly) playing havoc with theyeast-vats in Hydroponics he was also (reportedly) knocking guards downlike ten-pins in the main corridor off the engine room whilereinforcements tried to pin him down with a wide-beam stunner. .. . 

Quite suddenly emergency circuits closed and lights flashed in thecontrol cabin, the special signal for a meteor-collision with the outershell in No. 3 hold. Tawney signalled for the section chief frantically. "What's happening down there?"

"I can't talk, " the section chief gasped. "Gotta get into a suit, we'releaking in here. .. . "

"Well, plug up the hole!"

"The hole's four feet wide, sir!" There was a fit of coughing and thecontact broke. The signals for No. 4 hold and No. 5 hold were flashingnow; while the crew members in the vicinity scrambled for pressure suitssomeone systematically proceeded to blow holes in No. 9, No. 10 and No. 11 holds. .. . 

It was impossible. The reports came in thick and fast. Greg Hunterwas in two places at once, and everywhere he went . .. In bothplaces . .. There was a trail of unbelievable destruction. Bulkheadsdemolished, gaping holes torn in the outer shell, the air-reconditioningunits smashed beyond repair. .. . Tawney buzzed for his first mate. 

An emergency switch cut into the line, with the frantic voice of asection chief. Johnny Coombs had been spotted disappearing into theventilator shaft in the engine sector. "Well, go in after him!" Tawneyscreamed. He got his first mate finally, and snarled orders into thespeaker. "They're in the ventilators. Get a crew in there and stopthem. "

But it was dark in the ventilator shafts. No emergency lights in there. Worse, the crewmen were hearing the things that were being whisperedaround the ship. The ventilator shafts yawned menacingly before them;they went in reluctantly. Once in the dark maze of tunnels, identification was difficult. Two guards met each other headlong in thedarkness, and put each other out of the fight in a flurry of nervousstunner-fire. While they searched more of the holds were broken open, leaking air through gaping rents in the hull. .. . 

Tawney felt the panic spreading; he tried to curb it, and it spread inspite of him. The fugitives were appearing and disappearing likewraiths. Reports back to control cabin took on a frantic note, confusedand garbled. Now the second-level bulkheads were being attacked. Over athird of the compartments were leaking precious air into outer space. 

When a terrified section chief came through with a report that two GregHunters had been spotted by the same man at the same time, and that theguards in the sector were shooting at anything that moved, includingother guards, Tawney made his way to the radio cabin and put through afrantic signal to Jupiter Equilateral headquarters on Mars. 

The contact took forever, even with the ship's powerful emergencyboosters. By the time someone at headquarters was reading him, Tawney'sreport sounded confused. He was trying for the third time to explain, clearly and logically, how two men and a ghost were scuttling hisorbit-ship under his very feet when one wall of the cabin vanished in acrackle of blue fire, and he found himself staring at two Greg Huntersand a grim-faced Johnny Coombs. 

He made squeaky noises into the microphone and dropped it with a crash. He groped for a chair; Johnny jerked him to his feet again. "Ascout-ship, " he said tersely. "Clear it for launching. We want one withplenty of fuel, and we don't want a single guard anywhere near theairlock. " He picked up an intercom microphone and thrust it into thelittle fat man's trembling hand. "Now move! And you'd better be surethey understand you, because you're coming with us. "

Merrill Tawney stared first at Tom, then at Greg, and finally at themicrophone. Then he moved. The orders he gave to his section chiefs werevery clear and concise. 

He had never argued with a ghost before, and he didn't care to startnow. 

 * * * * *

It was over so quickly that it seemed to Tom it had just begun, and ifso much had not been at stake, it might have been fun. 

It had been the gun . .. The remarkable gun that Roger Hunter had left ashis legacy . .. That had been the key. It ate through steel and aluminumalloy like putty. Whatever its power source, however it worked, bywhatever means it had been built, there had been no match for it on theorbit-ship. 

It had _worked_ . .. And that was all that mattered right then. 

With it, and with the advantage of a ghost that walked like aman . .. Tom Hunter, to be exact . .. They had reduced the JupiterEquilateral orbit-ship to a smoking wreck in something less than thirtyminutes. 

The signal came back that a scout-ship was ready, unguarded. Johnnyprodded Tawney with the stunner. "You first, " he said. 

"But where are you taking me?"

"You'll see, " Johnny said. 

"It was a trick, " Tawney said, glaring at Tom. "They told me they shotyour ship to pieces. .. . "

"The ship, yes, " Tom said. "Not me. "

"Well . .. Well, that's good, that's good, " Tawney said quickly. Heturned to Greg. "You don't have to take me back . .. The bargain is stillgood. .. . "

"Move, " Johnny Coombs said. 

With Tawney between them, Greg and Tom marched down the corridor towardthe airlock, with Johnny bringing up the rear. No one stopped them. Noone even came near them. One crewman stumbled on them in the corridor;he saw Tawney with a gun in his back, and fled in terror. 

They found the scout-ship, and strapped Tawney down to an accellerationbunk, binding his hands and feet so he couldn't move. Greg checked thecontrols while Tom and Johnny strapped down. A moment later the enginesfired, and the leaking wreck of the orbit-ship fell away, dwindling anddisappearing in the blackness of space. 

It was a quiet journey. The red dot that was Mars grew larger everyhour. One of the three stayed awake at all times to watch Tawney whilethe others slept. During the second rest period, Tom woke up while Gregwas on duty. 

"How's our prisoner doing?" Tom asked. 

"No problem there, he can barely move. I almost wish he'd try something, he's too quiet. "

It was true. Tawney had recovered from his shock . .. But rather thangrow more worried as Mars grew large on the screen, he seemed to becomemore cheerful by the minute. "He doesn't seem very worried, does he?"Tom said. 

"No, and it doesn't quite add. We've got enough on him to get JupiterEquilateral pushed right out of the Belt. "

"I'd still feel better if we had the whole picture for the Major, " Tomsaid. "We still don't know what Dad found, or where he hid it. .. . "

The uneasiness grew. Tawney ignored them, staring at the image of thered planet on the viewscreen almost eagerly. Then, eight hours out ofSun Lake City a U. N. Patrol ship appeared, moving toward them swiftly. "Intercepting orbit, " Greg said. "Looks like they were waiting for us. "

They watched as the big ship moved in to tangential orbit, matching itsspeed to theirs. Then Greg snapped the communicator switch. "Sound off, "he said cheerfully. "We've got a prize for you. "

"Stand by, we're boarding you, " the Patrol sent back. "And put yourweapons aside. "

Four scooters broke from the side of the Patrol ship. Greg activated theairlock. Five minutes later a man in Patrol uniform with captain's barsstepped into the control cabin, a stunner on ready in his hand. ThreePatrolmen came in behind him. 

The captain looked around the cabin, then saw Tawney, and took a deepbreath. "Well, thank the stars you're safe at any rate. Pete, Jimmy, take the controls. "

"Hold on, " Greg said. "We don't need a pilot. "

The Captain looked at him. "Sorry, but we're taking you in. There won'tbe any trouble unless you make it. You three are under arrest, and I'mauthorized to make it stick if I have to. I suggest you just cooperate. "

They stared at him. Then Johnny said, "What are the charges?"

"You ought to know, " the Captain said. "We have a formal complaint fromthe main offices of Jupiter Equilateral, charging you with piracy, murder, kidnapping of a company official, and totally wrecking a companyorbit ship. I don't quite see how you managed it, but we're going tofind out in short order. "

There was a stunned silence in the cabin, and then a sound came from therear of the cabin. 

Merrill Tawney was laughing. 

12. The Sinister Bonanza

They were taken to a small, drab internment room. A half hour passed andstill no word from the Major. From the moment the Patrol crew hadboarded them, everything had seemed like a bad dream. The shock of thearrest, the realization that the Captain had been serious when he reeledoff the charges lodged against them . .. They had been certain it wassome kind of ill-planned joke until they saw the delegation of JupiterEquilateral officials waiting at the port to greet Merrill Tawney like aman returned from the dead. They had watched Tawney climb into the sleekcompany car and drive off toward the gate, while the Captain hadescorted them without a word down to the internment rooms. 

The door clicked, and the Captain looked in. "All right, come alongnow, " he said. 

"Is the Major here?" Tom said. 

"You'll see the Major soon enough. " The Captain herded them into anotherroom, where a clerk efficiently fingerprinted them. Then they went downa ramp to a jitney-platform, and boarded a U. N. Official car. The tripinto the city was slow; rush-hour traffic from the port was heavy. Whenthey reached U. N. Headquarters, there was another wait in an upperlevel ante-room. The Captain stood stiffly with his hands behind hisback and ignored them. 

"Look, this is ridiculous, " Greg burst out finally. "We haven't doneanything. You haven't even let us make a statement. "

"Make your statement to the Major. It's his headache, not mine, I'mhappy to say. "

"But you let that man walk out of there scot free. .. . "

The Captain looked at him. "If I were you, " he said, "I'd stopcomplaining and start worrying. If I had Jupiter Equilateral at mythroat, I'd worry plenty, because once they start they don't stop. "

A signal light blinked, and he took them downstairs. Major Briarton wasbehind his desk; his eyes tired, his face grim. He dismissed theCaptain, and motioned them to seats. "All right, let's have the story, "he said, "and by the ten moons of Saturn it had better be convincing, because I've about had my fill of you three. "

He listened without interruption as Tom told the story, with Greg andJohnny adding details from time to time. Tom told him everything, fromthe moment they had blasted off for Roger Hunter's claim to the momentthe Patrol ship had boarded them, except for a single detail. 

He didn't mention the remarkable gun from Roger Hunter's gun case. Thegun was still in the spacer's pack he had slung over his shoulder; hehad not mentioned it when the Patrolmen had taken their stunners away. Now as he talked, he felt a twinge of guilt in not mentioning it. .. . 

But he had a reason. Dad had died to keep that gun secret. It seemedonly right to keep the secret a little longer. When he came to the partabout their weapons, he simply spoke of "Dad's gun" and omitted anydetails. 

And through the story, the Major listened intently, interrupting onlyoccasionally, pulling at his lip and scowling. 

"So we decided that the best way to convince you that we had theevidence you wanted was to bring Tawney back with us, " Tom concluded. 

"A brilliant maneuver, " the Major said dryly. "A real stroke of genius. "

"But then the Patrol ship intercepted us and told us we were underarrest. And when we landed, they let Tawney drive off without evenquestioning him. "

"The least we could do, under the circumstances, " the Major said. 

"Well, I'd like to know why, " Greg broke in bitterly. "Why pick on us?We've just been telling you. .. . "

"Yes, yes, I heard every word of it, " the Major sighed. "If you knew thetrouble . .. Oh, what's the use? I've spent the last three solid hourstalking myself hoarse, throwing in every bit of authority I couldmuster and jeopardizing my position as Coordinator here, for the solepurpose of keeping you three idiots out of jail for a few hours. "

"Jail!"

"That's what I said. The brig. The place they put people when they don'tbehave. You three are sitting on a nice, big powder keg right now, andwhen it blows I don't know how much of you is going to be left. "

"Do you think we're lying?" Greg said. 

"Do you know what you're charged with?" the Major snapped back. 

"Some sort of nonsense about piracy. .. . "

"Plus kidnapping. Plus murder. To say nothing of totally disabling aseventeen-million-dollar orbit-ship and placing the lives of fourhundred crewmen in jeopardy. " The Major picked up a sheet of paper fromhis desk. "According to Merrill Tawney's statement, the three of youhijacked a company scout-ship that chanced to be scouting in thevicinity of your father's claim. Your attack was unprovoked and violent. Everybody on Mars knows you were convinced that Jupiter Equilateral wasresponsible for your father's death. " He looked up. "In the absence ofany evidence, I might add, although I did my best to tell you that. " Herattled the report-sheet. "All right. You took the scout-ship by force, with the pilot at gunpoint, and made him home in on his orbit-ship. Thenyou proceeded to reduce that orbit-ship to a leaking wreck, althoughTawney tried to reason with you and even offered you amnesty if youwould desist. By the time the crew stopped shooting each other in thedark . .. Fifteen of them subsequently expired, it says here . .. You hadstolen another scout-ship and kidnapped Tawney for the purpose ofextorting a confession out of Jupiter Equilateral, threatening him withtorture if he did not comply. .. . " The Major dropped the paper to thedesk. 

Johnny Coombs picked it up, looked at it owlishly, and put it backagain. "Pretty large operation for three men, Major, " he said. 

The Major shrugged. "You were armed. That orbit-ship was registered as acommercial vessel. It had no reason to expect a surprise attack, and hadno way to defend itself. "

"They were armed to the teeth, " Greg said disgustedly. "Why don't yousend somebody out to look?"

"Oh, I could, but why waste the time and fuel? There wouldn't be anyweapons aboard. "

"Then how do they explain the fact that the _Scavenger_ was blown tobits and Dad's orbit-ship ripped apart from top to bottom?"

"Details, " the Major said. "Mere details. I'm sure that the company'slawyers can muddy the waters quite enough so that little details likethat are overlooked. Particularly with a sympathetic jury and a judgethat plays along. "

He stood up and ran his hand through his hair. "All right, granted I'mpainting the worst picture possible . .. But I'm afraid that's the wayit's going to be. I believe your story, don't worry about that. I knowwhy you went out there to the Belt and I can't really blame you, Isuppose. But you were asking for trouble, and that's what you got. Frankly, I am amazed that you ever returned to Mars, and how you managedto make rubble of an orbit-ship with a crew of four hundred men tryingto stop you is more than I can comprehend. But you did it. All right, fine. You were justified; they attacked you, held you prisoner, threatened you. Fine. They'd have cut your throats in another few hours, perhaps. Fine. I believe you. But there's one big question that youcan't answer, and unless you can no court in the Solar System willlisten to you. "

"What question?" Tom said. 

"The question of motives, " the Major replied. "You had plenty of motivefor doing what Tawney says you did. But what motive did JupiterEquilateral have, if your story is true?"

"They wanted to get what Dad found, out in the Belt. "

"Ah, yes, that mysterious bonanza that Roger Hunter found. I was afraidthat was what you'd say. And it's the reason that Jupiter Equilateral isgoing to win this fight, and you're going to lose it. "

"I don't think I understand, " Tom said slowly. 

"I mean that I'm going to have to testify against you, " the Major said. "_Because your father didn't find a thing in the Asteroid Belt_, and Ihappen to know it. "

 * * * * *

"It's been a war, " the Major said later, "a dirty vicious war with noholds barred and no quarter given. Not a shooting war, of course, nothing out in the open . .. But a war just the same, with the higheststakes of any war in history. 

"It didn't look like a war, at first, " the Major went on. "Back when thecolonies were being built, nobody really believed that anything of valuewould come of them . .. Scientific outposts, perhaps, places forlaboratories and observatories, not much more. The colonies were placedunder United Nations control. Nobody argued about it. 

"And then things began to change. There was wealth out here . .. Andopportunities for power. With the overpopulation at home, Earth waslooking more and more to Mars and Venus for a place to move . .. Not tinycolonies, but places for millions of people. And as Mars grew, JupiterEquilateral grew. "

"But it was just a mining company, " Tom said. 

"At first it was, but then its interests began to expand. The companyaccumulated wealth, unbelievable wealth, and it developed many friends. Very soon it had friends back on Earth fighting for it, and the UnitedNations found itself fighting to stay on Mars. "

"I don't see why, " Tom said. "The company already has half the miningclaims in the Belt. .. . "

"They aren't interested in the mining, " the Major said. "They have amuch longer-range goal than that. The men behind Jupiter Equilateral arelooking ahead. They know that someday Earthmen are going to have to goto the stars for colonies . .. It won't be a matter of choice after awhile, they'll _have_ to go. Well, Jupiter Equilateral's terms are verysimple. They're perfectly willing to let the United Nations controlthings on Earth. All they want is control of everything else. Mars, ifthey can drive us out. Venus too, if it ever proves up for colonies. Andif they can gain control of the ships that leave our Solar System forthe stars, they can build an empire, and they know it. "

They were silent for a moment. Then Johnny Coombs said, "Doesn't anybodyon Earth know about this?"

"There are some who know . .. But they don't see the danger. They thinkof Jupiter Equilateral as just another big company. So far U. N. Controlof Mars and Venus has held up, even though the pressure on thelegislators back on Earth has been getting heavier and heavier. JupiterEquilateral won the greatest fight in its history when they limited U. N. Jurisdiction to Mars, and kept us out of the Belt. And now they hope toconvince the lawmakers that we're incompetent to administer the Martiancolonies and keep peace out here. If they succeed, we'll be called homein nothing flat; we've had to fight just to stay. "

The Major spread his hands helplessly. "Like I said, it's been a war. Our only hope was to prove that the company was using piracy and murderto gain control of the asteroids. We had to find a way to smash thepicture they've been painting of themselves back on Earth as a big, benevolent organization interested only in the best for Earth colonistson the planets. We had to expose them before they had the Earth inchains . .. Not now, maybe not even a century from now, but sometime, years from now, when the breakthrough to the stars comes and Earthmendiscover that if they want to leave Earth they have to pay toll. .. . "

"They could never do that!" Greg protested. 

"They're doing it, son. And they're winning. We have been searchingdesperately for a way to fight back, and that was where your father camein. He could see the handwriting, he knew what was happening. That waswhy he broke with the company and tried to organize a competing forcebefore it was too late. And it was why he died in the Belt. He knew Icouldn't send an agent out there without unquestionable evidence ofmajor crime of some sort or another. But a private citizen could go outthere, and if he happened to be working with the U. N. Hand in glove, nobody could do anything about it. "

"Then Dad was a U. N. Agent?"

"Oh, not officially. There's not a word in the records. If I were forcedto testify under oath, I would have to deny any connection. Butunofficially, he went out there to lay a trap. "

The Major told them then. It had been an incredible risk that RogerHunter had taken, but the decision had been his. The plan was simple: toinvolve Jupiter Equilateral in a case of claim-jumping and piracy thatwould hold up in court, pressed by a man who would not be intimidatedand could not be bought out. Roger Hunter had made a trip to the Beltand come back with stories . .. Very carefully planted in just the rightears . .. Of a fabulous strike. He knew that Jupiter Equilateral hadjumped a hundred rich claims in the past, forcing the independent minersto agree, frightening them into silence or disposing of them with"accidents. "

But this was one claim they were not going to jump. The U. N. Cooperated, helping him spread the story of his Big Strike until they were certainthat Jupiter Equilateral would go for the bait. Then Roger Hunter hadreturned to the Belt, with a U. N. Patrol ship close by in case he neededhelp. 

"We thought it would be enough, " the Major said unhappily. "We werewrong, of course. At first nothing happened . .. Not a sign of a companyship, nothing. Your father contacted me finally. He was ready to giveup. Somehow they must have learned that it was a trap. But they had justbeen careful, was all. They waited until our guard was down, and thenmoved in fast and hit hard. "

He sank down in his seat behind the desk, regarding the Hunter twinssadly. "You know the rest. Perhaps you can see now why I tried to keepyou from going out there. There was no proof to uncover and no bonanzalode for you to find. There never was a bonanza lode. "

The twins looked at each other, and then at the Major. "Why didn't youtell us?" Greg said. 

"Would you have listened? Would telling you have kept you from going outthere? There was no point to telling you, I knew you would have to findout for yourselves, however painfully. But what I'm telling you now isthe truth. "

"As far as it goes, " Tom Hunter said. "But if this is really the truth, there's one thing that doesn't fit into the picture. "

Slowly Tom pulled the gun case from his pack and set it down on theMajor's desk. "It doesn't explain what Dad was doing with this. "

13. Pinpoint in Space

Tom knew now that it was the right thing to do. There was no question, after the Major's story, of what Dad had been doing out in the Belt atthe time he had been killed. He had been doing a job that was moreimportant to him than asteroid mining . .. But he had found somethingmore important than his own life, and had no chance to send word of whathe had found back to Major Briarton on Mars. That had been theunforeseeable part of the trap. 

But now, of course, the Major had to know. 

The Mars Coordinator looked at the thing on the desk for a long momentbefore he reached out to touch it. The bright metal gleamed in thelight, pale gray, lustrous. The Major picked it up, balanced it expertlyin his hand, and a puzzled frown clouded his face. He examined itminutely. 

"What is this thing?" he said. 

"Suppose you tell us, " Johnny Coombs said from across the room. 

"It looks like a gun. "

"That's what it is, all right. "

"You've fired it?"

"Yes . .. But I wouldn't fire it in here, if I were you, " Johnny said. "You were wondering how we wrecked Tawney's orbit-ship so thoroughly. That's your answer right there. " He told about the hole in the bulkhead, the way the ship's generators had melted like clay under the powerfulblast of the weapon. 

The Major could hardly control his excitement. "Where did you get it?"he asked, turning to Tom. 

"From the space pack that you turned over to us. I didn't even look atit, until we needed a gun in a hurry. I just assumed it was Dad'srevolver. "

"And your father found it somewhere in the Belt, " the Major said softly. He looked at the weapon again, shaking his head. "There isn't any suchgun, " he said finally. "These things you say it could do . .. They wouldrequire energy enough to break down the cohesive forces of molecules. There isn't any way we know of to harness that kind of energy andchannel it in a hand weapon. Nobody on Earth. .. . "

He broke off and stared at them. 

"That's right, " Johnny said. "Nobody on Earth. "

"You mean . .. Extraterrestrial?"

"There isn't any other answer, " Johnny said. "_Look_ at the thing, Major. _Feel_ it. Does it feel like it was made for a human hand? Itdoesn't fit, it doesn't balance, you have to hold it with both hands toaim it. .. . "

"_But where did it come from?_" the Major said. "We've never hadvisitors from another star system . .. Not in the course of recordedhistory. And we know that Earthmen are the only intelligent creatures inour Solar System. "

"You mean that they're the only ones _now_, " Tom said. 

"Or any other time. "

"We don't know that, for sure, " Tom said. 

"Look, we've explored Venus, Mars, all the major satellites. If therehad ever been intelligence on any of them, we'd have known it. "

"Maybe there was a planet that Earthmen haven't explored, " Tom said. "Even Dad tried to tell us that. The quotation from Kepler that hescribbled down in his log . .. 'Between Jupiter and Mars I will put aplanet. ' Why would Dad have written that? Unless he had suddenlydiscovered proof that there _had_ been a planet there?"

"You mean this . .. This gun, " the Major said. 

"And whatever else he found. "

"But there's never been any proof of that theory . .. Not even a hint ofproof. "

"Maybe Dad found proof. There are hundreds of thousands of asteroidfragments out there in the Belt, and only a few hundred of them haveever been examined by men. "

On the desk the strange weapon stared up at them. Evidence, muteevidence, and yet its very existence said more than a thousand words. Itwas there. It could not be denied. 

And someone . .. Or _something_ . .. Had made it. 

Slowly the Major pulled himself to his feet. "It must have happenedafter his last message to me, " he said. "It wasn't part of the scheme wehad set up, but he made a strike just the same . .. An archeologicalstrike . .. And this gun was part of it. " He picked up the weapon, turnedit over in his hand. "But it was days after that last message before hissignal went off, and the Patrol ship moved in. "

"It makes sense, " Johnny Coombs said. "He found the gun, and somethingmore. "

"Like what?"

"I wouldn't even guess, " Johnny said. "A planet with a race of creaturesintelligent enough and advanced enough to make a weapon like that . .. Itcould have been anything. But whatever it was, it must have scared him. He must have known that a company ship might turn up any minute . .. Sohe hid whatever he had found, and all he dared to leave was a hint. "

"And now it's vanished, " the Major said. "The big flaw in the wholeidea. My Patrol ship found nothing when it searched the region. Youlooked, and drew a blank. The company men scoured the area. " He spreadhis hands helplessly. "You see, it just won't hold up, not a bit of it. Even with this gun, it won't hold up. We've got to find the answer. "

"It's out there somewhere, " Tom said doggedly. "It's got to be. "

"But _where_? Don't you see that everything hangs on that one thing? Ifwe could prove that your father found something just before he waskilled, we could tear Jupiter Equilateral's case against you intoshreds. We could charge them with piracy and murder, and make it stick. We could break their power once and for all . .. But until we know whatRoger Hunter found, we're helpless. They'll take you three to court, andI won't be able to stop them. And if you lose that case, it may mean theend of U. N. Authority on Mars. "

"Then there's just one thing to do, " Johnny Coombs said. "We've got tofind Roger Hunter's bonanza. "

 * * * * *

It was almost midnight when they left the Major's office, a gloomy trio, walking silently up the ramp to the Main Concourse, heading toward theliving quarters. 

They had been talking with the Major for hours, going over every facetof the story, wracking their brains for the answer . .. But the answerhad not come. 

Roger Hunter had found something, and hidden it so well that threegroups of searchers had failed to discover it. After seeing the gun, theMajor was convinced that there had indeed been a discovery made. Butwhatever that discovery had been, it was gone as if it had neverexisted . .. As if by some sort of magic it had been turned invisible, or conjured away to another part of the Solar System. 

Finally, they had given up, at least for the moment. "It has to bethere, " the Major had said wearily. "It hasn't vanished, or miraculouslyceased to exist. We know he was working on one claim, one asteroid. There were no other asteroids in the region . .. And even the ones withinsuicide radius have been searched. "

"It's there, all right, " Tom said. "We're missing something, that'sall. "

"But what? Asteroids have stable orbits. Nobody can just make onedisappear. .. . "

They had called it a night, finally. 

Once home they found more bad news waiting. There were two messages onthe recordomat. The first was an official summons to appear before theUnited Nations Board of Investigations at 9:00 the following morning toanswer "certain charges placed against the above named persons by theGoverning Board of Jupiter Equilateral Mining Industries, and by oneMerrill Tawney, plaintiff, representing said Governing Board. " Theylistened to the plastic record twice. Then Greg tossed it down the wastechute. 

The other message was addressed to Greg, from the Commanding Officer ofProject Star-Jump. The message was very polite and regretful; it wasalso very firm. The pressure of the work there, in his absence, made itnecessary for the Project to suspend Greg on an indefinite leave ofabsence. Application for reinstatement could be made at a later date, but acceptance could not be guaranteed. .. . 

"Well, I might have expected it, " Greg said, "after what the Major toldus. The money for Star-Jump must have been coming from somewhere, andnow we know where. The company probably figures to lay claim on anystar-drive that's ever developed. " He dropped the notice down the chute, and laughed. "I guess I really asked for it. "

"You mean I pushed you into it, " Tom said bitterly. "If I'd kept my bigmouth shut at the very start of this thing, you'd have gone back to theProject and that would have been the end of it. .. . "

 * * * * *

Greg looked at him. "You big bum, do you think I really care?" Hegrinned. "Don't feel too guilty, Twin. We've been back to back on thisone. "

He pulled off his shirt and walked into the shower room. Johnny Coombswas already stretched out on the sofa, snoring softly. 

Quite suddenly the room seemed hot and stuffy, oppressive. He couldn'tmake his thoughts come straight. There had been too much thinking, toomuch speculation. Tom stood up and slipped on his jacket. 

He had to walk, to move about, to try to think. He slipped open thedoor, and started for the ramp leading to the Main Concourse. 

There was an answer, somewhere. 

He walked on along the steel walkways, trying to clear his mind of thedoubts and questions that were plaguing him. At first he just wandered, but presently he realized that he had a destination in mind. 

He went up a ramp and across the lobby of the United NationsAdministration Building. He took a spur off the main corridor, and cameto a doorway with a small circular staircase beyond it. At the bottom ofthe stairs he opened a steel door and stepped into the Map Room. 

It was a small darkened amphitheater, with a curving row of seats alongone wall. On either side were film viewers and micro-readers. Andcurving around on the far wall, like a huge parabolic mirror, was theMap. 

Tom had been here many times before, and always he gasped in wonder whenhe saw the awesome beauty of the thing. Stepping into the Map Room waslike stepping into the center of a huge cathedral. Here was the glowing, moving panorama of the Solar System spread out before him in abreath-taking three-dimensional image. Standing here before the Map itseemed as if he had suddenly become enormous and omnipotent, hangingsuspended in the blackness of space and staring down at the Solar Systemfrom a vantage point a million miles away. 

Once, Dad had told him, there had been a great statue in the harbor ofOld New York which had been a symbol of freedom for strangers coming tothat city from across the sea, and a welcome for countrymen returninghome. And someday, he knew, this view of the Solar System would bewaiting to greet Earthmen making their way home from distant stars. TheMap was only an image, a gift from the United Nations to the colonistson Mars, but it reproduced the Solar System in the minutest detail thatastronomers could make possible. 

In the center, glowing like a thing alive, was the Sun, the hub of themagnificent wheel. Around it, moving constantly in their orbits, werethe planets, bright points of light on the velvet blackness of thescreen. Each orbit was computed and held on the screen by the greatcomputer in the vault below. 

But there was more on the Map than the Sun and the planets, with theirsatellites. Tiny green lights marked the Earth-Mars and the Earth-Venusorbit-ships, moving slowly across the screen. Beyond Mars, a myriad oftiny lights projected on the screen, the asteroids. Without themagnifier Tom could identify the larger ones . .. Ceres, on the oppositeside of the Sun from Mars now as it moved in its orbit; smaller Juno, and Pallas, and Vesta. .. . 

For each asteroid which had been identified, and its orbit plotted, there was a pinpoint of light on the screen. For all its beauty, the Maphad a very useful purpose . .. The registry and identification ofasteroid claims among the miners of Mars. Each asteroid registered as aclaim showed up as a red pinpoint; unclaimed asteroids were white. Buteven with the advances of modern astronomy only a small percentage ofthe existing asteroids were on the map, for the vast majority had neverbeen plotted. 

Tom moved up to the Map and activated the magnifier. Carefully hefocussed down on the section of the Asteroid Belt they had visited sorecently. Dozens of pinpoints sprang to view, both red and white, andbeneath each red light the claim-number neatly registered. Tom peered atthe section, searching until he found the number of Roger Hunter's lastclaim. 

It was quite by itself, not a part of an asteroid cluster. He stepped upthe magnification, peered at it closely. There were a dozen otherpinpoints, all unclaimed, within a ten-thousand-mile radius. .. . 

But near it, nothing. .. . 

No hiding place. 

And then, suddenly, he knew the answer. He stared at the Map, his heartpounding in his throat. He cut the magnification, scanning a wide area. Then he widened the lens still further, and checked the coordinates atthe bottom of the viewer. 

He knew that he was right. He _had_ to be right. But this was no wilddream, this was something that could be proved beyond any question oferror. 

Across the room he picked up the phone to Map Control. It buzzedinterminably; then a sleepy voice answered. 

"The Map, " Tom managed to say. "It's recorded on time-lapse film, isn'tit?"

"'Course it is, " the sleepy voice said. "Observatory has to have therecord. One frame every hour. .. . "

"I've got to see some of the old film, " Tom said. 

"_Now?_ It's three in the morning. "

"I don't need the film itself, just project it for me. There's a readerhere. "

He gave the man the dates he wanted, Mars time. The man broke thecontact, grumbling, but moments later one of the film-viewers sprang tolife. The Map coordinates showed at the bottom of the screen. 

Tom stared at the filmed image . .. The image of a segment of theAsteroid Belt the day before Roger Hunter had died. 

It was there. When he had looked at the Map, he had seen a single redpinpoint of light, Roger Hunter's asteroid, with nothing in the heavensanywhere near it. 

But on the film image taken weeks before there were two points of light. One was red, with Roger Hunter's claim number beneath it. The other waswhite, so close to the first that even at full magnification it wasbarely distinguishable. 

_But it was there. _

Tom's hands were trembling with excitement; he nearly dropped the phonereceiver as he punched the buttons to ring the apartment. Greg's faceappeared on the screen, puffy with sleep. "What's that? Thought you werein bed. .. . "

"You've got to get down here, " Tom said. 

Greg blinked, waking up. "What's the matter? Where are you?"

"In the Map Room. Wake Johnny up and get down here. And try to get holdof the Major. "

"You've found something, " Greg said, excited now. 

"I've found something, " Tom said. "I've found where Dad hid hisstrike . .. And I know how we can find it! We've got the answer, Greg. "

14. The Missing Asteroid

It had been a wild twelve hours since Tom Hunter's call to his brotherfrom the Map Room in Sun Lake City. The Major had arrived first, stillbuttoning his shirt and wiping sleep from his eyes. Johnny and Greg camein on his heels. They had found Tom waiting for them, so excited hecould hardly keep his words straight. 

He told them what he had found, and they wondered why they had notthought of it from the first moment. "We knew there had to be ananswer, " Tom said, "some place Dad could have used for a hiding place, some place nobody would even think to look. Dad must have realized thathe didn't have much time. When he saw his chance, he took it. "

And it was pure, lucky chance. Tom showed them the section of the Map hehad examined, with the pinpoint of light representing Roger Hunter'sasteroid claim. Then the Map Control officer . .. Much more alert when hesaw Major Briarton . .. Brought an armload of films up and loaded theminto the projector. They stared at the screen, and saw the two pinpointsof light where one was now. 

"What was the date of this?" the Major asked sharply. 

"Two days before Dad died, " Tom said. "There's quite a distance betweenthem there . .. But watch. One frame for every hour. Watch what happens. "

He began running the film, the record taken from the Map itself, accurate as clockwork. The white dot was moving in toward the red dot ata forty-degree angle. For an instant it looked as though the two werecolliding . .. And then the distance between them began to widen again. Slowly, hour by hour, the white dot was moving away, off the screenaltogether. .. . 

The Major looked up at Tom and slammed his fist on the chair-arm. "Bythe ten moons of Saturn. .. . " he exploded, and then he was on his feet, shouting at the startled Map Control officer. "Get me Martinson downhere, and fast. Call the port on a scrambled line and tell them to standby with a ship on emergency call, with a crack interceptor pilot readyto go. Then get me the plotted orbits of every eccentric asteroid that'scrossed Mars' orbit in the last two months. And double-A security oneverything . .. We don't want to let Tawney get wind of this. .. . "

Later, while they waited, they went over it to make sure that nothingwas missing. "No wonder we couldn't spot it, " the Major said. "We werelooking for an asteroid in a standard orbit in the Belt. "

"But there wasn't any, " Tom said. "Dad's rock was isolated, nowhere nearany others. And we were so busy thinking of the thousands of rocks innormal orbits between Mars and Jupiter that we forgot that there are afew eccentric ones that just don't travel that way. "

"Like this one. " The Major stared at the screen. "A long, intersectingorbit. It must swing out almost to Jupiter's orbit at one end, and comeclear in to intersect Earth's orbit at the other end. .. . "

"Which means that it cuts right through the Asteroid Belt and on outagain. " Tom grinned. "Dad must have seen it coming . .. Must have thoughtit was on collision course for a while. But he also must have realizedthat if he could hide something on its surface as it came near, it wouldbe carried clear out of the Belt altogether in a few days' time. "

"And if we can follow it up and intercept it. .. . " The Major was on hisfeet, talking rapidly into the telephone. Sleep was forgotten now, nothing mattered but pinpointing a tiny bit of rock speeding throughspace. Within an hour the asteroid had been identified, its eccentricorbit plotted. The coordinates were taped into the computers of thewaiting Patrol ship, as the preparations for launching were made. 

It could not be coincidence. Somewhere on the surface of that tinyplanetoid racing in toward the Sun they knew they would find RogerHunter's secret. 

 * * * * *

Below them, as they watched, the jagged surface of the asteroid drewcloser. 

It was not round . .. It was far too tiny a bit of cosmic debris to havesufficient gravity to crush down rocks and round off ragged corners. Itwas roughly oblong in shape, and one side was sheer smooth rock surface. The other side was rough, bristling with jutting rock. More thananything else it looked like a ragged mountain top, broken off at thepeak and hurled into space by an all-powerful hand. 

Slowly the scout-ship moved closer, braking with its forward jets. Thepilot was expert. Carefully and surely he aligned the ship with the rockin speed and direction. In the accelleration cot Tom could feel only anoccasional gentle tug as the power cut on and off. 

Then the Lieutenant said, "I think we can make a landing now, Major. "

"Fine. Take a scooter down first, and carry a guy line. "

They unstrapped, and changed into pressure suits. In the airlock theywaited until the Lieutenant had touched the scooter down. Then MajorBriarton nodded, and they clamped their belts to the guy line. 

One by one they leaped down toward the rock. 

From a few miles out in space, the job of searching the surface had notappeared difficult. From the rock itself, things looked very different. There was no way, from the surface, to scan large areas, and the surfacewas so rough that they had to take constant care not to damage theirboots or rip holes in their suits. There were hundreds of crevices andcaves, half concealed by the loose rock that crumbled under their feetas they moved. 

They spread out from the scooter for an hour of fruitless searching. Tomspent most of the time pulling his boots free of surface cracks andpicking his way over heaps of jagged rock. None of them got farther thana hundred yards from the starting place. None of them found anythingremarkable. 

"We could spend weeks covering it this way, " Greg said when they met atthe scooter again. "Why don't I take the scooter and criss-cross thewhole surface at about fifty feet? If I spot anything, I'll yell. "

It seemed like a good idea. Greg strapped himself into the scooter'ssaddle, straddling the fuel tanks, using the hand jet to guide himselfas he lifted lightly off the surface. He disappeared over the horizon ofrock, then reappeared as he moved over the surface and back. 

Tom and Johnny waited with the Major. Twenty minutes later Greg broughtthe tiny craft back again. "It's no good, " he said. "I've scanned thewhole bright-side, came as close as I dared. "

"No sign of anything?" Johnny said. 

"Not a thing. The dark side looks like a sheer slab, from what my lightsshow. If we only had some idea what we were looking for. .. . "

"Maybe you weren't close enough, " Tom said. "Why not drop each of us offto take a quarter of the bright-side and work our way in?"

The others agreed. Tom waited until the Major and Johnny had beenposted; then he hopped on the scooter behind Greg and dropped off almostat the line of darkness, where the sheer slab began. All of them hadhoped that there might be a sign, something that Roger Hunter might haveleft to mark his cache, but if there was one none of them spotted it. Tom checked with the others by the radio in his helmet, and startedmoving back toward the center of the bright side. 

An hour later he was only halfway to the center, and he was nearlyexhausted. At a dozen different spots he thought he had found apromising cleft in the rock, a place where something might have beenconcealed . .. But exploration of the clefts proved fruitless. 

And now his confidence began to fail. Supposing he had been wrong? Theyknew the rock had passed very close to Roger Hunter's asteroid, theastronomical records proved that. But suppose Dad had not used it as hishiding place at all? He pulled himself around another jagged rock shelf, staring down at the rough asteroid surface beyond. .. . 

At the base of the rock shelf, something glinted in the sunlight. Heleaped down, and thrust his hand into a small crevice in the rock. Hishand closed on a small metal object. 

It was a gun. It felt well balanced, familiar in his hand . .. Therevolver Dad had always carried in his gun case. 

He had to let them know. He was just snapping the speaker switch when heheard a growl of static in his earphones, and then Greg's voice, high-pitched and excited. "Over here! I think I've found something!"

It took ten minutes of scrambling over the treacherous surface to reachGreg. Tom saw his brother tugging at a huge chunk of granite that waswedged into a crevice in the rock. Tom got there just as the Major andJohnny topped a rise on the other side and hurried down to them. 

The rock gave way, rolling aside, and Greg reached down into thecrevice. Tom leaned over to help him. Between them they lifted out thething that had been wedged down beneath the boulder. 

It was a metal cylinder, four feet long, two feet wide, and bluntlytapered at either end. In the sunlight it gleamed like polished silver, but they could see a hairline break in the metal encircling the centerportion. 

They had found Roger Hunter's bonanza. 

 * * * * *

In the cabin of the scout-ship they broke the cylinder open into twoperfect halves. It came apart easily, a shell of paper-thin butremarkably strong metal, protecting the tightly packed contents. 

There was no question what the cylinder was, even though there wasnothing inside that looked even slightly familiar at first examination. There were several hundred very tiny thin discs of metal that fit on thespindle of a small instrument that was packed with them. There werespools of film, thin as tissue but amazingly strong. Examined againstthe light in the cabin, the film seemed to carry no image at all . .. Butthere was another small machine that accepted the loose end of the film, and a series of lenses that glowed brightly with no apparent source ofpower. There was a thick block of shiny metal covered on one side withalmost invisible scratches. .. . 

A time capsule, beyond doubt. A confusing treasure, at first glance, butthe idea was perfectly clear. A hard shell of metal protecting therecords collected inside. .. . 

_Against what? A planetary explosion? Some sort of cosmic disaster thathad blown a planet and its people into the fragments that now filled theAsteroid Belt?_

At the bottom of the cylinder was a small tube of metal. They examinedit carefully, trying to guess what it was supposed to be. At the bottomwas a tiny stud. When they pressed it, the cylinder began to expand andunfold, layer upon layer of thin glistening metallic material thatspread out into a sheet that stretched halfway across the cabin. 

They stared down at it. The metal seemed to have a life of its own, glowing and glinting, focussing light into pinpoints on its surface. 

It was a map. 

At one side, a glowing ball with a fiery corona, an unmistakeablesymbol that any intelligent creature in the universe that was able toperceive it at all would recognize as a star. Around it, in clearlymarked orbits, ten planets. The third planet had a single satellite, thefourth two tiny ones. The sixth eleven. The seventh planet had ten, andwas encircled by glowing rings. 

But the fifth planet was broken into four parts. 

Beyond the tenth planet there was nothing across a vast expanse of themap . .. But at the far side was another star symbol, this one a doublestar with four planetary bodies. 

They stared at the glowing map, speechless. There could be no mistakingthe meaning of the thing that lay before them, marked in symbols thatcould mean only one thing to any intelligence that could recognize starsand planets. 

But in the center of the sheet was another symbol. It lay halfwaybetween the two Solar Systems, in the depths of interstellar space. Itwas a tiny picture, a silvery sliver of light, but it too wasunmistakeable. 

It could be nothing else but a Starship. 

 * * * * *

Later, as they talked, they saw that the map had told each of them, individually, the same thing. "They had a star-drive, " Tom said. "Whatever kind of creatures they were, and whatever the disaster thatthreatened their planet, they had a star-drive to take them out of theSolar System to another star. "

"But why leave a record?" Greg wanted to know. "If nobody was here touse it. .. . "

"Maybe for the same reason that Earthmen bury time capsules with recordsof their civilization, " Major Briarton said. "I'd guess that the recordshere will tell, when they have been studied and deciphered. Perhapsthere was already some sign of intelligent life developing elsewhere inthe Solar System. Perhaps they hoped that some of their own people wouldsurvive. But they had a star-drive, so some of them must have escaped. And with the record here. .. . "

"We may be able to follow them, " Greg said. 

"If we can decipher the record, " Johnny Coombs said. "But we don't haveany clue to their language. "

"Did you have any trouble understanding what the map had to say?" theMajor said quietly. 

"No. .. . "

"I don't think the rest will be much more difficult. They wereintelligent creatures. The record will be understandable, all right. " Hestarted to fold the map back into a tube again. "Maybe Roger Huntertried to use the film projector. We'll never know. But he must haverealized that he had discovered the secret of a star-drive. He realizedthat the United Nations were the ones to explore it and use it, and hegave his life to keep it out of the hands of Tawney and his men. .. . "

"A pity, " a cold voice said close behind them, "that he didn't succeed, after all. "

They whirled. In the hatchway to the after-cabin, Merrill Tawney wasstanding, with a smile on his lips and a Markheim stunner traineddirectly on Major Briarton's chest. 

15. The Final Move

"I realize I'm much earlier than you expected, Major. You did a veryneat job of camouflaging your takeoff . .. We were almost fooled . .. Andno doubt the dummy ship you sent off later got full fanfare. I supposethere will be a dozen Patrol ships converging on this spot in a fewhours, expecting to surprise a Jupiter Equilateral ship making adesperate attempt to hijack your little treasure here. "

The little fat man laughed cheerfully. "Unfortunately for you, " headded, "we have many friends on Mars . .. Including a man in the Maproom . .. And I'm afraid your little trap isn't going to work after all. "

The Major's face was gray. "How did you get here?"

"By hitch-hiking. How else? Most uncomfortable, back there, even with apile of pressure suits for padding, but your pilot was really veryskillful. "

Johnny Coombs turned on the Major. "What does he mean, a trap? I don'tget this. .. . "

The Major sighed wearily. "I had to try to force his hand. Even if wefound what we were looking for, we had no case that could stand upagainst them. We needed _proof_ . .. And I thought that with this as baitwe could trap them. He's right about the Patrol ships . .. But they won'tbe near for hours. "

"And that will be a little late to help, " Tawney said pleasantly. 

The Major glared at him. "Maybe so . .. But you've gone too far thistime. This is an official U. N. Ship. You'll never be able to go back toMars. "

"Really?" the fat man said. "And why not? Officially I'm on Mars rightnow, with plenty of people to swear to the fact. " He chuckled. "You seemto forget that little matter of proof, Major. When your Patrol shipsfind a gutted ship and five corpses, they may suspect that somethingmore than an accident was involved, but what can they prove? Nothingmore than they could prove in the case of Roger Hunter's accident. Scout-ships have been known to explode before. "

He ran his hand over the metal cylinder. "And as for this . .. It'sreally a surprise. Of course when we failed to find any evidence ofmining activity, we were certain that Roger Hunter's bonanza wassomething more than a vein of ore, but _this_! You can be certain thatwe will exploit the secret of a star-drive to the very fullest. "

"How do you think you can get away with it?" the Major said. "Turning upwith something like that right after a whole series of suspiciousaccidents in space?"

"Oh, we aren't as impatient as some people. We wouldn't be so foolish asto break the news now. Five years from now, maybe ten years, one of ourorbit-ships will happen upon a silvery capsule on one of our asteroidclaims, that's all. I wouldn't be surprised if a non-company observermight be on board at the time, maybe even a visiting Senator from Earth. For something this big, we can afford to be patient. "

There was silence in the little scout-ship cabin. The end seemedinevitable. This was a desperate move on Tawney's part. He was gamblingeverything on it; he would not take the chance of letting any of themreturn to Mars or anywhere else to testify. 

Greg caught Tom's eye, saw the hopelessness on his brother's face. Heclenched his fists angrily at his side. If it were not for Tom, Dad'sbonanza might have gone on circling the sun for centuries, maybeforever, wedged in its hiding place on the rocky surface of theeccentric asteroid. 

But it had been found. Earth needed a star-drive badly; a few moreyears, and the need would be desperate. And if a group of power-hungrymen could control a star-drive and hold it for profit, they couldblackmail an entire planet for centuries, and build an empire in spacethat could never be broken. 

He knew that it must not happen that way. Dad had died to prevent it. Now it was up to them. 

 * * * * *

Greg glanced quickly around the cabin, searching for some way out, something that might give them a chance. His eyes stopped on the controlpanel, and he sucked in his breath, his heart pounding. Apossibility. .. . 

It would require a swift, sure move, and someone to help, someone withfast reflexes. It was dangerous; they might all be killed. But if histraining at Star-jump was good for anything, it might work. 

He caught Johnny Coombs' eye, winked cautiously. A frown creasedJohnny's forehead. He shot a quick look at Tawney, then lowered hiseyelid a fraction of an inch. Greg could see the muscles of hisshoulders tightening. 

Greg took quick stock of the cabin again. Then he took a deep breath andbellowed, "Johnny . .. _duck_!"

Almost by reflex, Johnny Coombs hurled himself to the floor. Tawneyswung the gun around. There was an ugly ripping sound as the stunnerfired . .. But Greg was moving by then. In two bounds he was at thecontrol panel. He hooked an arm around a shock bar, and slammed thedrive switch on full. 

There was a roar from below as the engines fired. Greg felt a jolt ofpain as the accelleration jerked at his arm. Tom and the Major wereslammed back against a bulkhead, then fell in a heap on top of Johnnyand the Lieutenant as the awful force of the accelleration dragged themback. Across the cabin Tawney sprawled on the floor. The stunner flewfrom his hand and crashed against the rear bulkhead. 

On the panel Greg could see the accelleration gauge climbingswiftly . .. Past four g's, up to five, to six. The ship was movingwildly; there was no pilot, no course. 

With all the strength he could muster Greg tightened his arm on theshock bar, lifting his other arm slowly toward the cut-off switch. Hehad spent many hours in the accelleration centrifuge at Star-Jump, learning to withstand and handle the enormous forces of accellerationfor brief periods, but the needle was still climbing and he knew hecould not hold on long. His fingers touched the control panel. Hestrained, inching them up toward the switch. .. . 

His fingers closed on the stud, and he pulled. The engine roar ceased. On the floor behind him Tawney moved sluggishly, trying to sit up. Bloodwas dripping from his nose. He was still too stunned to know what hadhappened. 

Greg leaped across the room, caught up the stunner, and then sank to thefloor panting. "All right, " he said as his breath came back, "that'sall. Your ship may have trouble finding us now . .. But I bet our pilotcan get us back to Mars. "

 * * * * *

When they left the Sun Lake City infirmary it was almost noon, and thered sun was gleaming down from overhead. Walking slowly, the Huntertwins moved along the surface street toward the U. N. Building. 

"He'll recover without any trouble, " the doctor had assured them. "Hecaught the stunner beam in the shoulder, and it will be a while beforehe can use it, but Johnny Coombs will be hard to keep down. "

They had promised Johnny to return later. They had had check-upsthemselves. Both Tom's eyes were surrounded by purple splotches, and hisbroken left arm was in a sling. Greg's arms and legs were so stiff hecould hardly move them. The Major and the Lieutenant had been sore butuninjured. 

Now the boys walked without talking. Already a U. N. Linguist was at workon the record tapes from the metal cylinder, and a mathematician wasdoing a preliminary survey on the math symbols on the metal block. 

"I hope there's no trouble reading them, " Greg said. 

"There won't be. It'll take time, but the records are decipherable. AndDr. Raymond was certain that the engineering can be figured out. Earthis going to get her star-ship, all right. "

"And we've got work to do. "

"You mean the trial? I guess. The Major says that Jupiter Equilateral istrying to pin the whole thing on Tawney now. They won't get away withit, but it may be nasty just the same. "

"Well, one thing's sure . .. There'll be some changes made, with the U. N. Moving out into the Belt, " Greg said. 

Somewhere in the distance the twins heard the rumble of engines. Theystopped and watched as a great silvery cargo ship lifted from the spaceport and headed up into the dark blue sky. They watched it until itdisappeared from sight. 

They were both thinking the same thing. 

An Earth-bound ship, powerful and beautiful, but limited now to the sunand nine planets, unable to reach farther out. 

But someday soon a different kind of ship would rise. 

THE END